


Discordia [Book 2 of Concordia]

by darahdechain



Series: Concordia [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, Mute Link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-11-22 12:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 80,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11379822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darahdechain/pseuds/darahdechain
Summary: [Book 2] Denied by the woman who loved him, rejected by his people and exiled from his land, Ganondorf realizes that power is nothing but self-consuming when not tempered by wisdom and emboldened by courage. But when Zelda has become cold and arrogant, and Link's loyalty is pushed to it's limits, Hyrule once again struggles to find balance.





	1. Exile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UncannyPrincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UncannyPrincess/gifts).



Sornah checked the map again to make sure that they were on the right course. According to the Representative, they should wait for him in the East Gerudo Ruins. The first time she had done something like this, she had been so anxious that the Representative thought the whole thing was a trap and it had taken weeks of careful communication and smaller deals to regain a reputation of trustworthiness. Now she was calm and business-like. This was the fifth transaction of its kind in so many months and she was getting used to making the journey in the early hours of the morning while the sun rose over the dunes, outlining them in gold and causing the sand to sparkle like water. Instead of dashing through, sticking to the shadows of the ruins, she and her guard of three strode directly to their destination, straight backed and confident. There would always be a sense of urgency about these meetings. Her sisters were relying on her after all, but the Buyer was discreet and understood the mutual benefits of secrecy. If the Chief knew about it, she turned a blind eye. Everyone knew that she wasn't doing this for profit. It was far more basic than that. No, this was a matter of survival.

She had told herself that, repeated it over and over again to friends who had nodded in solem agreement enough times that it almost drowned out that voice in the back of her mind that shamed her with words like _pirate_ and _smuggler_.

It wasn't piracy - that would involve theft, and everything she brought with her had been crafted or harvested by her sisters. Sundried voltfruits, mixed native spices powdered for potency, and cured tangy meats - these were all her hard work. In the past, she had imported raw ingredients from all over Hyrule to create the most interesting fusions, but now she was limited to the fruits of the desert. As well as the products of her own labour, she bargained on behalf of the other merchants of Gerudo Town, using her shrewd business savvy and bright optimistic manner to get her sisters the pay they deserved for their work. It didn't matter that she herself was in debt to the Buyer. Try as they might to maintain their independence and make do with what raw materials could be found in the desert, there were certain things that they needed in order to keep enough money coming in to feed everyone. She hadn't told anyone, but when push came to shove, she had seen no other option than to step up and hash out a deal with the Buyer to advance them metal ore, jewels and meat in exchange for continued business. It just meant that all proceeds went to the town, and any leftovers that would have gone to herself, she used to pay off the debt.

Convincing herself that it wasn't smuggling was a little more difficult. It wasn't explicitly forbidden to trade directly with the Rito, but it was illegal to do so without the oversight of a Hylian official. But this had always been true, even before the noose had been tightened around their throats. No one had observed it then because there had been no official government during the Calamity, and the law had only been in place to prevent underhanded dealings, forgery, or other manipulative and exploitative practises. What had then been used to protect the Gerudo and give them the power to build a steady reputation for honesty and quality was now being used to undermine and short-change them. As far as she was concerned, such laws didn't apply in times of crisis. It had not applied during the Calamity, which had been for most of her life, and it didn't apply now in a nation that was only a few breaths away from martial law. So long as she followed the spirit of the law and made sure her deals were fair and just, then she could continue to hold her head high. Furthermore, smuggling only related to illicit materials, and no one could argue that silk and gold were dangerous or immoral.

She was doing the right thing, the only thing she could do, given the circumstances, to support her people and keep her business alive. The fact that it was _technically_ illegal was simply an inconvenience.

This morning was cool and serene and a warm wind from the south melted the chill of the night from their bones as they made their way further east. This deal was to involve a shipment of fine gossamer and silk, which was not normally her area of expertise and she practised her pitch under her breath as they walked. Her guards, silent warriors at least a foot taller than her, made her feel both stuffy and safe. They intimidated the Representative, but if she kept a cheerful, friendly tone to her negotiations, she could mitigate that. Before, Zara had been enough to keep problem customers at bay, but this wasn't the same as selling to crowds at festivals. Her old partner had never been good at dealing with buyers on a one to one basis.

As they approached the ruins, she saw movement in between the massive stone feet of the Sages. Raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she counted a group of eight. She signalled her guards to stop. There should only have been one; the Representative, and he was supposed to be a Rito, not Hylian like these seemed to be. Something had gone wrong. There wasn't going to be an exchange this morning. Trying to stay calm, she started back the way she had come, only to hear a shout from the ruins. They had been seen.

There was no use trying to get away now. If they ran, it would look beyond suspicious. So they continued on as if she hadn't heard. They couldn't pretend for very long, as she saw out of the corner of her eye the Hylians running up to meet them. They were dressed appropriately for the desert, though they kept their cloaks tucked tightly around them against the lingering cold from the previous night, dark blue and stitched with the insignia of the crown, a stylised eagle below a triforce. She enjoyed listening to them struggle up the sandy slope towards them, puffing and slipping, while she and her guards kept graceful pace in sturdy heeled sandals. It wasn't until they had been overtaken that she finally stopped, assuming a mildly curious expression.

Their apparent leader, a round Hylian with pink cheeks, beetle black eyes and a mop of mousey hair, took a stand in front of them, blocking their way forward. Sornah noticed that he was wearing a delicately crafted white gold circlet under his messy fringe, adorned with a small flawless sapphire, no doubt enchanted to stave off the hard desert heat. She recognised Isha's work and tried to hide her irritation. She was willing to bet her next shipment that he had not paid a fair price for it. Hylians like these claimed to be men and women of the law, but were not above taking confiscated items for their own.

"Who are you?" she asked while he struggled to catch his breath. She had said it sweetly enough, but it was difficult to keep the accusation out of her tone.

"Ignatius... Buttle... Her Royal Majesty's... Ministry of Commerce..." he wheezed. He was joined by more of his men. Some of them wore masks to protect them from the wind and sand, but from what she had heard about the Ministry of Commerce, she strongly suspected that it was because they would rather not be identified later. As soon as the thought occurred to her, she chided herself for being paranoid. These weren't bandits, at least not the kind that she remembered from before Calamities End. She did make a mental note that all of them were armed.

"And what can I do for Her Majesty?"

He seemed to have caught his breath, and stood a little straighter, though he was nowhere near the height of the Gerudo. "What is your business here?"

"I'm out for a morning stroll," she said flatly.

"With two armed guards?" he snorted.

"They're on duty today," she explained, as if talking to a child. "Can a woman not enjoy a morning walk with her friends before they begin their shifts, or does that violate a trading agreement I haven't heard about?"

"So you wouldn't know anything about a Rito smuggling operation around these parts?" he said, folding his arms. She cursed inwardly. It had been bad enough that this particular deal had fallen through, but if the Representative had been scared away for good, she had lost her main source of income.

"Nothing at all."

"Then you wouldn't mind if we did a quick search?"

She saw a few of the men's eyes narrow in sinister smiles and felt her guards bristle, hands tightening around their spears. "I'm sorry, Mr. Buttle, we're not interested in enabling your little fantasy of playing law enforcement. You're nothing but a bunch of meddling bureaucrats who have ideas above their station. Now, if you'll excuse us..." She made to step past him, but there was a hiss of metal as his men drew weapons. One raised a crossbow. She swore.

"We represent the Royal House of Queen Zelda, so you might try showing us some respect."

"Yeah? Where is she?" She sounded a lot braver than she felt and was grateful when one of her guards caught her eye, giving her a small nod that indicated their support. If it came down to a fight, she knew she could rely on them. "I don't see her anywhere. There are rumours that she isn't even in Hyrule Castle. I don't recognise the authority of a queen who isn't even there for her own people. Now I would take you to our Chief and you can have it out with her, but you aren't even allowed in the town, let alone the palace. It's almost as if you're in way over your head in a land that does not welcome you and does not care for you or your vacant monarch. Hyrule is that way," she pointed north. "Get out before your hurt yourself."

Buttle was becoming redder with every word she said. "You really can't help yourselves, can you?" he spat. "Bring a little civilisation to this Goddess forsaken wasteland and all you get is a more civilised form of banditry. You might feel all high and noble because your crimes have fancy names now but when the sun goes down, 'tax evasion' is just another form of thievery."

Sornah flushed. She would never let him see it, but his accusations cut to her bone and for a moment she was speechless. Her guards levelled their spears, forcing the Hylians to back up, and she heard them tighten their grip on their own weapons. The crossbowman in particular worried her. All it would take is one slip of his finger.

Some of the Hylians on the edge of the group seemed to be distracted, however. They were glancing away from the Gerudo to peer at something in the distance behind them.

"Minister...?" one of them said, leaning around to see better. "What is that?"

Buttle waved an impatient hand. "Not now, Keller."

"I think it's another Gerudo," another one said.

"Nah, it's too... Goddess, I think you're right," Keller exclaimed.

Sornah, her curiosity getting the better of her, turned away from the Hylians to see what they were looking at. At first, she didn't quite understand what she was seeing. A figure, tall, red haired and dark skinned like a Gerudo, was approaching them. As he got closer, Sornah recognised him with a jolt.

 

xxx

 

He had never before appreciated just how rich his homeland was. He had stepped through into an underground tomb and even in the silence of that dead place, there was life. The air was cool, and in the enclosed space he could hear his breath echoed back to him like the whispers of the ancestors. He channelled his energy into a flame in his hand and the flickering light chased shadows into corners. By virtue of being a thing built by living hands, the tomb itself was a living thing that slept and dreamt.

He left the tomb, climbing sandstone steps into rising sunlight and marvelling at the sensation of the hot wind on his face. He could smell the baking rock and warm safflina. Unable to help himself, he smiled, taking a moment to enjoy the colours of the morning, sinking into a sitting position with this back against one of the stone pillars that marked the entrance to the tomb. A lizard seemed to think he had the right idea and crawled from its nook in the stone to bask in the orange glow, warming itself. After the world he had come to know as the Empty Place, this little show of life, of effort, delighted him.

Even so, he was reluctant to strike out on his journey. There was no shadow chasing him, but he was aware that no one was waiting for him either. There was no place for him in Gerudo Town, and it was doubtful that anything had changed in the time he had been in what he had come to know as the Empty Place. Moving through the world was still going to be difficult, and he had no idea how long it had been. When he had left, autumn had been coming on fast, and though it was difficult to be sure in the desert, but the way the creeping roots of the hydromelon under the shade of the stonework had bloomed purple flowers, the fruit itself small and inedible, he concluded that it must be spring time. Taking a breath, he stood. He could cover a lot of ground before the sun hit its highest point and the heat would force him to stop. If he had come out where he thought he had, he could take shelter in the East Ruins until nightfall and then head directly to Gerudo Town. In the absence of anything else, his priority was for his people. Like before, he would put himself at Chief Riju's disposal and serve them that way. The thought of showing his face again was hardly appealing, but what other choice did he have? He had done enough hiding.

He set out, veering north and following the base of the mountains, moving quickly to make the most of the cool morning. He tried not to think about what he was going to say when he made it to the front gate. Would _she_ be there? Would Sun hear about his arrival? Gerudo lived long loves and had long memories. Spending much of his formative years away from them had been lucky in a way. He had never had to deal with the small-town realities of an enclosed community. Mistakes and embarrassments had never cling to him. They were something to leave behind, not carry with you. Until now. Now they were a weight on his shoulders, literal marks on his body that could sometimes be hidden, sometimes ignored, but never shed. Sun would most certainly have returned to her home, and might have told her sisters the story of Ganondorf the Coward, Ganondorf the Fool. He would be the first of his kind to come and go, leaving nothing behind like a snuffed candle. At least his predecessors left behind songs and monuments. It might be a legacy of darkness and defeat, but it was a legacy nonetheless. Sun might remember him, but once the pain had worn away, all that would be left of him to her would be the memory of a petty, shameful man. Returning might not change any of that, but staying away would draw a line under his story forever, and that was more than he could bear.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sounds of voices coming to him on the wind. It was not all that unusual for travellers to visit the most prominent landmarks of the region, though the harsh climate deterred all by the most dedicated tourists. Furthermore, the voices were raised in anger, and he recognised a native accent. Normally, he wouldn't have been curious, but he was grateful for any distraction from his worry, so he headed towards the voices until he was able to make out more of what they were saying.

Three Gerudo, two armed and armoured guards as well as what looked like a trader were arguing with a sizable group of Hylians. What was more, they had levelled weapons at each other, their bodies stiff with tension. As much as he believed that any Gerudo could take on a small number of Hylians with ease, one of them had a crossbow. It didn't matter how capable a warrior any of them were when all that stood between them and grievous bodily harm was a shaky hand and less than a split second. They had already seen him approaching, so he slowed down, keeping a calm composure and speaking to the Gerudo as if the others weren't there at all.

"Sav'otta eisha. Meda'as il ulth jinaas'na?" _What are these people doing here?_

The trader looked too stunned to answer for a moment, but then she collected herself and responded, also in Gerudo. "They think I'm a smuggler. They like to throw their weight around and make themselves feel important, so they're trying to arrest me."

"On whose authority?" he asked. The Hylians were looking from the trader to him. Some of them seemed annoyed that the groups attention had been shifted to the Gerudo. Others squinted, as if they could understand by listening harder. Their leader was getting more annoyed by the second.

"Queen Zelda's."

" _Queen?"_ It was his turn to look astonished. How much time _had_ passed since he had left? He recovered quickly however. Now was not the time to get bogged down in details. "Well tell them to speak to Riju. Queen or not, matters of law should be handled by the Chief."

"I know," she grumbled.

"Regardless, what are they doing _here?"_

"What do you mean?"

"Speak Hylian!" Buttle shouted, causing both of them to start and regard him with impatience.

It was Ganondorf who spoke. "There is no fight here. Put down your weapons. This trader isn't running anywhere, so if you want to arrest her, you'll have to speak to our Chief," he said, trying to keep his voice civil and free of condescension. "Her Majesty would know this. If there has been a crime, then it will be investigated and dealt with as per our own laws." He couldn't believe he had to explain this. "What are you even doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" he heard the trader mutter in Gerudo.

The Hylians lowered their weapons, but didn't put them away. His appearance and apparent authority seemed to have put them off balance. "We're here on an anonymous tip," the leader said, puffing himself up, "that there would be illegal transactions taking place at this location at this time."

"And that would warrant an arrest?" Ganondorf rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, sighing. None of this was making any sense. "You are stepping far outside the bounds of your authority. We are going to go back to town. You can do whatever you want, but if you want to arrest her, come to town with a representative of the Crown and a letter from the Queen, but know that Chief Riju will not be pleased if you waste her time with something as trivial as this. Now step aside."

For several seconds, no one moved. Then, to their leader’s fury, the men and women shuffled back, opening up a space for them to pass. Without waiting for a further excuse, the trader and her guards strode past, and he followed them. They could hear the Hylian official swearing at them, but they didn't turn around. He didn't have long to contemplate what had just happened, however. After they had put some distance behind them and they could no longer be seen, the three women turned on him, the two guards raising their spears to point at his neck.

"I know who you are," the trader hissed.

He raised his hands in a gesture of peace. He hadn't expected this to happen, but now that it was, he could hardly be surprised. He didn't speak.

"You have some gall showing up here again. You're a wanted man," this from one of the guards.

"I'm not going to resist. All I ask is that you take me to Gerudo Town."

"So hand over your weapons."

He paused. All he had was his sword and it pained him to relinquish it. It didn't look as if he had any other choice, so he slowly untied it from his belt and held it out to her. She took it. "This isn't Gerudo made," she commented, and he shrugged. They looked at each other while she seemed to be trying to gauge how much trouble he would be.

"I want to see the Chief anyway," he said, "and I have no interest in being led there by force. There's no need for anything dramatic."

She looked at her two guards, considering. "If you so much as look in the wrong direction..."

"You have my word. I will come quietly."

"Let's go."

She walked ahead of him, and the guards fell in behind him, though he could sense their eyes on him, their weapons at the ready. "You know who I am," he said. "What's your name?"

"Sornah."

"I have questions."

She grunted.

"Were you really planning to smuggle something?"

A pause. "No."

He decided against pressing her. "Why exactly am I a wanted man?"

She turned to glance at him, frowning. "Are you really asking me to explain why you're not welcome here?"

"Enlighten me."

"Don't play pretend, Ganondorf. You show up a matter of months after the defeat of Calamity Ganon and just as quickly disappear. Ever since then it's like we've been cursed. You spooked Zelda so bad it's like we've gone back to the days before the Calamity. We're not welcome in Hyrule anymore and as a result we've been struggling to make ends meet. It was bad enough before the Great Plateau Siege started and now it's like the rest of the world wants to see us starve. And while all this is happening, no one sees hide nor hair of you. Even Sun couldn't tell Riju where you went." She sneered. "But let me guess, you just went on a nice vacation while the world went to shit."

He absorbed all this in shocked silence. _How long had passed?_ She was making it sound as if he was being accused of treason. Trying to stay calm, he thought carefully about his next question. "So... Sun made it back safe?"

"No thanks to you."

"What's going to happen to me?"

"I don't know. It depends what you've done. You're not the only one who has questions."

He let out a breath. Perhaps it hadn't been a good idea to give himself up so easily. He remembered Riju being a reasonable leader, sympathetic to him, but so much had already been proven to be different. Zelda was Queen now, and from what he had seen and what Sornah had growled at him, her reach had grown long indeed. Who was besieging the Great Plateau, and why? He considered breaking away, but he could sense the tension of the guards behind him and know that he wouldn’t get away without a fight, a fight that would cost him. Still, it was tempting. This would be the only time he could do it. Once they reached the town, it would be impossible. He took deep breaths. Riju would listen, he told himself. She was young, just a little further removed from tradition and history. It was why he had been confident in approaching her in the first place. Furthermore, she had an uncanny ability to ask the right questions and get to the heart of any given issue.

The sun climbed in the sky, taking the temperature with it. This was the second time he had been caught in Gerudo ill prepared, but he kept his head down, raised his hood against the sun and bent all his focus to putting one foot in front of the other. They didn’t offer to pause for a break and he didn’t ask them to.

After a couple of hours of this, one of the guards must have noticed his discomfort, because he felt a nudge on his upper arm and when he turned to look, the one on his left was holding out a canteen. He took it from her, trying to ignore his feelings of inadequacy. Sornah set an impressive pace, stepping lightly through the sifting sand as if she were walking on carpet while it sucked at his heavy boots. At this time of day, the sand would burn his feet, otherwise he would have removed them and continued barefoot.

So it was with a mixture of apprehension and relief that he saw the walls of Gerudo Town through the haze. They were approaching from the east side. The guards on duty waved at Sornah, who returned the gesture, calling out to them. When they spotted her prisoner, they stared openly, nudging each other and exchanging hushed and hurried words. Without being told, he stopped some distance from the gate and waited. Sornah explained the situation to the guards who then approached him, weapons in hand.

“Euluu jakkba!” _On your knees!_

He knelt, the picture of meekness. One of the guards who had been accompanying Sornah stayed behind while her partner and the merchant went to fetch the chief, leaving him surrounded by three veiled warriors. Thankfully, they didn’t bind him.

It took several minutes for Riju to arrive, and he was reminded of the first time they had met. He had been surprised to see her in the robes and decorative symbols of her office, and at that point he thought the Chief had sent her daughter instead. It was only when he had called her _Miru_ – ‘Chieftain’s Daughter’ – and endured her irritation that he had learned the truth. Riju had impressed him, demonstrating a grounded knowledge of her position and a confidence far beyond her years. She knew who he was but she had never been afraid of him, more than comfortable reprimanding him or giving him orders like he was just another one of her subjects. Their first encounter had been somewhat like this, with him waiting outside the gates of the town, trying to mask his nervousness while the guards glared at him as if daring him to ask why he was barred entry.

“Ganondorf.”

He looked up, and for a moment he was unable to conceal his shock. It was not a girl standing in front of him, but a nearly grown woman whose angled eyes had darkened with maturity. He let out a breath, feeling a flush rise up his neck. She had lost none of her grace, but had instead gained a focus and precision to her movements. A scimitar hung from her hip, and judging by her delicately muscled shoulders and arms, it was clear to him that it wasn’t for show. For a moment, they regarded each other, as he took her in and she registered his strange clothes and dishevelled appearance.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, keeping her distance.

“I was diverted,” he said, clearing his throat. “There was some… personal business that had to be taken care of. There was no time to explain. You would have been in danger if I stayed…” he trailed off, realising as he spoke how futile it was to try and account for something that must have happened years ago. Examining her face, he estimated her age at around eighteen years, meaning he had been in the Empty Place for at least three years. She was peering at him in kind, her brow knotted in a frown, and he felt misplaced, wrong footed. “I have returned This… this is my home,” he finished weakly. Somehow, he experienced a pang of guilt in his chest, though he had no idea why.

“Where have you been?” Her voice remained level, but it was cold as iron.

“I was travelling with Sun, and then… I left.”

“You left her? When? Where did you go?”

He swallowed, unsure how to continue. “I departed Hyrule. I have only today returned.”

“If you decline to answer my question one more time, Ganondorf, things are going to get a whole lot worse for you.”

He sighed. “I went to no place. I can explain to you that I passed through a curtain and describe to you the barren landscape I found myself in, lashed by an empty sea, a dead land, an Empty Place. Suffice it to say that I was not in Hyrule.”

She let him fall silent, glaring at him. A tense silence followed. No one moved. “Have you been working with the Yiga Clan?”

He snorted, despite the severity of the situation. “Those cultists? No.”

“You did not order them to annex the Great Plateau?”

This stunned him, his eyes wide, mouth slightly open. “They have taken the Plateau? How? Where did they find the men?”

“Do you really think you’re in a position to ask questions?”

“I don’t even know what I am being accused of!”

He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but his frustration was getting the better of him. There was only so much he could tolerate. He felt steel against the back of his neck as the guard behind him pressed forward, growling; “show the Chief some respect.”

“Let me make this crystal clear,” Riju breathed in a low, dangerous voice. “You might claim inaction, but in your absence, your name – or a close approximation of it – has been used to justify the hostile takeover of sovereign ground. This in turn, has given Queen Zelda every excuse to oppress my people. As far as I am concerned, if you had remained hidden away in the Hebras and had the good sense to keep your head down, then none of this would have happened. I tried to defend you, tried to advocate for your innocence, but after you disappeared even I had to ask myself; what are the chances that you are the first? The first Gerudo man to come into our world and leave without sowing ruin and devastation.”

He had no answer, so he remained silent, his jaw tight.

“Where were you?” She cried, emotion breaking into her speech for the first time. “Where were you when Zelda levied unjust laws against us? Where were you when she punished us – not even for your crimes but the crimes of your forefathers? Were you there to speak for us? Where were you when we were forced to trade with the Yiga just to survive? Even here in front of me, you do little to convince me that it wasn’t you who ordered the move against the crown, controlling the Yiga from the shadows.”

Outraged, he opened his mouth, ready to rebuke her, but she held up a hand. “No. You don’t get to speak. Not now. You had your chance three years ago when I questioned you, and you had three years since then to break your silence. You did not. Time has run out for you. You will be escorted from Gerudo and you will not return. I hereby banish you from our homeland.”

She stepped forward, closing the distance between them so that she could look directly down on him. “The Gerudo disown you. This is no longer your home.”

 

 


	2. Family

      They left him at the desert gateway. Considering the circumstances, he was not unaware of the courtesy they had shown him. His escorts had not touched him, nor made him endure a forced march or the humiliation of being bound. They had carried his sword with due care and allowed him to walk behind them with his hood pulled low over his face. They shared their food and water with him. They spoke no harsh words to him. They didn't speak to him at all. He thought he should try and say something to them, try to understand what was happening, but whenever he opened his mouth, it was as if something was lodged in his throat, so he kept his head down. The first day, he had clung to the hope that there had been some kind of terrible misunderstanding, and that one of them might suggest returning to clear things up. The second day, he recognised that idea as the childish notion it was and left it abandoned.

              He had never been so profoundly lost. Bitterly, he cycled through each direction his life could have taken, as if scoring them off a list. No living family, three quarters of which he had killed with his own hand. He knew better than to believe that Sun would have anything to do with him. His people had turned their backs on him, and he had nowhere to live. Even his original purpose, the closest thing he had to a birth right, had been destroyed. Ganon's marks on the landscape were fast becoming memory and the world was facing new threats that were far more banal. The nearest he had ever felt like this was when his mother had died, but that misery had been due to knowledge that there would be days after her, full of darkness and uncertainty, and that he could have done nothing to change it. She would always have died, and his childhood would have died with her. In hindsight, now that pain had become cynicism, he was thankful she had stayed with him as long as she did. Only in the cruellest worlds do children not say goodbye to their parents.

              This was different. This was _unfair._ It was one thing to be alone, quite another to be cast aside as if... He stopped, his mind hitting a wall. His guards, realising that he wasn't following them, paused and turned, giving him blank looks. He couldn't look back at them. With a shock, he realised that his hands were shaking, his face burning. There was a searing hole in his chest, and he was breathing through clenched teeth. He sensed, rather than saw, his guards reach behind them for their spears, thinking he might try to make a break for it. He tried to speak again, but words wouldn't come. What could he say? Please, there's no need for that. I'll be able to continue in a moment.

              Please say something to me. Ask me if I'm alright.

              Please prove to me that you still think I'm a person.

              _Please don't do to me what I did to her._

He forced himself to move, taking a step forward and lifting his head to meet their eyes, giving them a stiff nod. They seemed satisfied with this, and turned from him to continue down the road. They had reached the gateway, and as they stepped from packed sand to smooth stone, he felt his heart race like a hummingbird. They stopped for the last time, and one of them handing him his sword without ceremony. He swallowed, tying it back to his hip with numb hands. And then they left him, their task complete.

             

              xxx

 

              He didn't stay where he was. There was a temptation to linger, but he made himself gather up the remains of his pride and continue on. In the absence of everything else, he needed shelter, food, preferably a permanent dwelling with a bed and some way of gathering funds. He amused himself thinking through methods of survival as he walked the snaking road that led to the Canyon Pass. With his size and skill, he would find no end of mercenary work. With his magic, he could impress a village into keeping him as their sorcerer sage, or work in a fire temple. He knew a little about horses. Din, if it came down to it, he could be a travelling performer. He tried to laugh, tried to find the humour in such a ridiculous image, for the alternative was despair. If he was able to focus on the mundane, he wouldn't have to think about the hollowness. 

              As he turned north, he found he was attracting attention. To his surprise, the road wasn't as quiet as he remembered. The main pass into the desert, the road was broad and in the days before the Calamity, he imagined that it must have been the popular way for merchants and tourists. Since then, it had become dangerous, an ambush ground for the servants of Ganon, and even after the restoration, Hyrule had been slow to trust the main roads again. Now, Hylians patrolled the road, or gathered in groups of three or four around campfires. Most where in leathers, some in steel armour, all wearing cloaks of blue with the Hyrule Royal crest emblazoned on the back in gold. These were not random travellers or merchants, but soldiers in an army. He wrapped his cloak around himself, his head bowed and hood raised. He would have stood out at the best of times, standing more than three feet higher than the tallest of them and carrying a weapon to match, but the strange mixture of Rito clothes made him feel like a peacock. He could feel their eyes burning into him, and he quickened his pace.

              The bridge was ahead of him, but before that was a fence. Frowning, he tried to quell his apprehension. This appeared to be where the Hylians had congregated, with tents and hastily built cabins erected along the side of the road. Archers and crossbowmen were stationed on the cliff edges overlooking the road. Approaching the gap in the fence that lead to the bridge into Hyrule, he saw some Gerudo sitting at the edge of the road, looking tired and irritable. Not wanting to be caught staring, he averted his eyes.

              A Hylian woman in armour approached him and blocked his path. She seemed a higher rank than the others, one hand resting on the pommel of her sword, a scroll held in the other. "That's far enough," she said, her eyes on the scroll, "please hand over your identification papers..." Her voice trailed off when she looked up and saw who she was talking to.

              "What is this?" he asked, gesturing to the fence and the soldiers.

              She was still staring at him, her eyes glassy. "Uh... checkpoint." When he continued to look at her expectantly, she continued. "That is... you have to state your reason for leaving Gerudo and present identification papers as well as a letter signed by either your chief or Her Royal Majesty, Queen Zelda." She was saying all of this automatically, as if it were part of a script she had memorised and practised ad nauseam, standing on tiptoe to get a better look at him. Disconcerted, he stepped back.

              "What are you talking about?"

              "Your identification papers would have been issued to you when you took part in the census conducted by the Church of Hylia," again, in that same monotone. "You know... uh... I should just... If you could kindly stay here, I would like to consult with..." She gestured vaguely behind her at a concentration of white tents, where apparently the officers kept themselves, backing away from him. He saw something in her eyes, a kind of panic that was threatening to bubble over. Obviously, she had not been expecting someone like him. He scanned his surroundings, noticing that the guards at the entrance to the bridge were watching him closely, hands going for their weapons. Several archers were already nocking arrows in preparation. The Gerudo were sitting up a little straighter, no longer looking so bored. He swore under his breath.

              Had Riju known he would come across this? Had this been her plan? In one move, she had banished him from his last home and placed him right in the hands of Hylian officials.

              He backed up a few more steps, before turning on his heel and calmly walking right back the way he had come. No one stopped him, and he maintained a steady pace, striding forward with purpose, but without hurry.

              "Sir! No, sir, I need you to stay here and..."

              He raised his hand and called over his shoulder. "I left my identification papers at the stable. I'll return presently..." He took longer strides, still looking calm. He intended to leave the blockade while they were still calling him 'sir'. The captain seemed to be too busy looking for her superiors to order anyone to follow him, or perhaps she wasn't sure if she should.

              Once he had left the main camp, and turned a bend, he glanced around him. He was standing in a stretch of road that was out of sight. There was a cookpot and a tent propped up on the opposite side, but whoever it belonged to must have stepped away. Thinking on his feet, he turned off the road and started to climb the slope of Nabooru Mountain, seeking out the familiar pathways that would lead to the peak. He was willing to bet that even now he knew more about the landscape than the Hylians would, and if they sent someone to chase him they wouldn't be able to track him up here.

              Furthermore, if he remembered correctly, there was a hidden cave nearby that led to a tunnel through Nabooru, coming out somewhere near the Outskirt Stable. He didn't head for that yet, but climbed higher, out of sight of the main road until he reached a plateau. The wind blew cold from the north and he took a moment to catch his breath. From here, he had an excellent view of the road without being seen. Carefully, he made his way to the cliff edge, crouching low and craning his neck to have a bird’s eye view of the Hylian checkpoint.

              His hasty climb had taken just under an hour, but it seemed that the officials were still buzzing about in excitement over his appearance. They seemed to be questioning the other Gerudo, while the woman who had stopped him was dashing from person to person, giving orders, checking this or that. For a military installation, they seemed rather ill prepared and disorganised. Two warriors left the camp in a hurry after she spoke to them, and he guessed that they must be his tail. Smiling to himself, he searched again for the Gerudo he had left behind. From what he could see of their posture, they were exhausted. The Hylian questioning them was gesticulating aggressively, pointing down the road he had left by. The Gerudo were shaking their heads, trying to calm him down until one stood in front of her sister and snapped at him. He couldn't hear from where he was, but he could tell that she had told the official in no uncertain terms to back off. He didn't respond well, signalling over his shoulder to a group of others who drew swords and crossbows. Ganondorf watched in horror and outrage as the Gerudo were forced on their knees, their hands tied behind them. He could do nothing for them up here, and even if he did go back down, he expected he would end up right alongside them or worse.

              Did Riju know about this? Did Zelda?

              In what world had he found himself in? He thought of the gang that had accosted Sornah and his anger rose up in his chest, unfurling like a snake. From his vantage point he could just see the towering stone walls of the Great Plateau. So this was the siege? This high up, the vast fortress was shrouded in clouds.

              He heard a cry, and looked down. The camp seemed to have been brought back to order. He could no longer see the Gerudo who were being interrogated and he reasoned they must have been taken somewhere else. However, there was a concentrated struggle going on at the entrance to the bridge. Six Hylian solders were grabbling with a single Gerudo who was fighting to get free, her whole body bent towards the bridge. She was screaming, and even up here, he could hear the shrill combination of savage curses and desperate pleas, both in Gerudo and Hylian. On the bridge, a small group was mirroring them, with two soldiers holding a Hylian woman by the arms, forcing her down onto her knees and pressing her head into the wood while she scratched and writhed. They were shouting warnings, demanding peace, but the two women refused to let up. Feeling his heart contract, he watched helplessly as the scene escalated. Swords were drawn and the Gerudo was forced back. He could see her shoulders shaking, her hands over her face. The Hylian on the bridge had fallen still and silent. The combatants took a moment to catch their breath before advancing. The Hylian was half-carried, half-dragged back across the bridge. Defeated, the Gerudo reached out weakly as if she could touch her friend, but she was given little time to grieve. Soldiers pressed her back at sword point until she was forced to turn and let herself be marched out of the camp, her back stiff, her tear-streaked face held high.

              In light of her despair, he was forced to reassess his earlier assumption as to her relationship with the Hylian woman. There had only been one time and one person that would have triggered such desperate rage in him. He watched her leave and tried to let it go. For a few minutes, he sat watching the camp, but he could still hear her cries echoing against the walls of the canyon and eventually, he got to his feet, unable to remain inactive. He might have been exiled, and that woman a stranger to him, but she was still his sister. He could do something, so he had to.

              He hurried back to the natural steps that lead down to the road and descended as swiftly as he could without losing his footing. He might have yet missed her. There was a risk that he would end up running into the soldiers searching for him, but at this point he didn't really care. In fact, a part of him hoped to have an excuse to cross blades with one of two of them. Panting, adrenaline pumping through his veins, he hit the road and looked left and right, searching for her. For long minutes, he paced, keeping close to the rock wall in case he was spotted.

              Just as he was about to give up and let the opportunity pass, she came around the bend. She was in a miserable state. At a distance, he hadn't seen the full extent of the scuffle, but close to he could see that she had paid dearly for her fight. Her hair had come loose and hung about her face, only just concealing a black eye. Out of sight of the camp, she was no longer straight backed and resolute, but hunched over, weeping silently, hugging herself. She hadn't seen him yet. He felt embarrassed, realising that he would have to intrude upon her anguish in order to help her. Despite this, he remained resolute. He had to do something.

              He cleared his throat, stepped out from the shadow of the cliff. As he expected, she started, horrified that she might be seen like this. He approached, raising his hands to show he meant her no harm. She stood still, glaring at him reproachfully.

              "What do you want?" she growled, and then the slight widening of the eyes, the minuscule step back that he was starting to get used to.

              "I want to help you," he said. "I could not stand by knowing those Hylian soldiers mistreated you and got away with it"

              "You... you saw that then?" She walked up the road, making to pass him. "So you'll know that you can't help me. It used to be that someone on the other side could vouch for you if you didn't have identification papers, but they clamped down on it when they realised that people were using it to bring contraband across the bridge... so now..." she trailed off, her voice rough and muffled from crying.

              "You found yourself on the wrong side," he finished for her.

              "What's it to you?" she snapped, giving him a hard look. "You don't know me."

              "Uursa..." he said. It was something he had heard his mother say, like a spell to invoke co-operation. To Yshri mostly, when some compromise had to be made, or to apologise for the abuses of the twin witches, Kotake and Koume. But it had also been used to shield him, to justify the little kindnesses and mercies. Sun had once used it to chase away the loneliness that sometimes overcame him in his childhood. He used it now with uncertainty, unsure if he had the right to it. It didn't have a precise translation, due to its broad and imprecise definition. Sometimes it meant 'kin' and sometimes 'sorority'. Here, he used it to mean _family._

She didn't react at first. He was aware that the news of his banishment wouldn't have gotten to people out here yet. Blinking rapidly, she turned to him, adjusting her pack on her shoulder. "So? It's not as if you can do anything."

              "There's a tunnel," he said, pointing up the hill. "It's hidden by the angle of the rocks. I can show you. It leads under Nabooru and comes out on the other side of the Regencia. From there it's a short walk northeast to the Outskirts Stable. It's a bit of a trip, but the tunnel doesn't branch, you won't get lost."

              She stared at him. "How do you know about this? Why is there is a tunnel under the mountain?"

              "It's old," he admitted. "I did a lot of exploring when I was... younger." He didn't think it was a good idea to tell her that he had used it to sneak into Gerudo to see Sun. "I think it was built centuries ago, if not longer, back in the days when... when we were not so prosperous." He felt awkward.

              "You mean when we were gangs of thieves and plunderers?" She laughed. "I find it's best not to be embarrassed by our history." She closed to the distance between them. "That's what they want us to feel. They want us to be ashamed. It makes it easier for them to undermine us if we're already wracked with self-doubt."

              He nodded. He didn't need to ask who 'they' were.

              "So where is this tunnel?"

              "I can lead you there. It's just up this slope. I hope you don't mind a bit of climbing."

              "I can handle it."

              She followed him up, and he retraced his steps. It wasn't long before they were out of sight of the road. It took a little longer for him to find it as it had been some time since he had actively used the network of subterranean caves and tunnels under Hyrule. The entrance was obscured by a clever optical illusion. The way the sun hit the rock made it appear as if it were a flat cliff face. Only by running your hand along the wall did you find the turn that lead beneath. He showed her, and she peered into the darkness.

              "I don't have a torch," she said.

              "There are no branching paths," he repeated. "Just use your hand to guide you along the wall, and keep your head down to avoid the low ceiling. It goes straight north as the crow flies, so you'll be in Dalite Forest in less than a day."

              She continued to watch him, wavering.

              "I can't come with you," he explained. "I still don't understand what all this means. I need to stay here to make sure that the Hylians don't continue to overstep themselves and help others like you if they do."

              "What all what means?"

              He struggled to explain. "I... I have been away from my homeland for a long time. I only just came back less than a week ago and I had no idea any of this was going on."

              "How long?"

              "Three years."

              She whistled. "But you must have heard something," she said, frowning.

              "It's not as if I have regular correspondence with anyone living here. Can I ask you some questions?"

              "I'll do my best to answer them."

              "What contraband are they anxious to keep out of Hyrule? When I arrived, a group of them were harassing a trader near the East Ruins. They were accusing her of smuggling."

              "Sornah? They didn't arrest her, did they?"

              "No. But why -?"

              "Gerudo goods," she explained. "Any kind. Hylians don't think we're trustworthy. We need their rice and other basic things to stay alive, and before that was alright, because we paid well and they wanted our gold and silks. But their Queen put in places these tariffs. I'm not sure I understand it all, but the way it was explained to me is that we can't afford to buy the things we need to live. There used to be some people who would trade with us on the old terms. The Yiga, for one. But the chief put a stop to that when they took the Plateau. Even before then it was a sort of secret." He frowned at her. "No one was proud of it," she admitted. "But when you have children to feed..." She shrugged.

              "So the Hylians are besieging the Plateau. And that effectively cuts us off from the rest of Hyrule."

              "Yes. I think the Queen believes that we still supply them. Now they find excuses to keep us from being able to move in and out of Gerudo. No one says it aloud, but they think we are allied with the Yiga."

              "Zelda couldn't just come out and accuse us," he continued, putting it together, "because Riju wouldn't stand for it. She would fight. Then Hyrule would be fighting a war on two fronts. It's easier to keep us oppressed in the name of security, using the siege as an excuse to starve us."

"The Yiga were pretty quick to reveal the trade deals we made with them. I think they enjoy the in-fighting."

              "If Hyrule and Gerudo are too busy being at each other's throats,” he said, “then the Yiga can do things like annex the Plateau and build their strength for whatever they have planned next without being disturbed. And it's working. The Hylians seem a lot more preoccupied with keeping Gerudo off their land than advancing the siege."

              He fell into thoughtful silence. This complicated his return in the extreme. His first reaction was to blame Riju. If he had been there, he would have seen through their little game. But she was right. He hadn't been there. Moreover, it was possible that Riju _had_ known better, and, backed into a corner by Zelda, watching her people struggle and developing a healthy amount of resentment towards the Crown, had made the decision anyway. He remembered the woman who had met him at the gates to the town. Those eyes were not the eyes of a fool, but of someone who had been forced to make the decision between pride and survival. No, he had no right to judge her. There was no use in dwelling on what he could have done when there were people suffering right now.

              "Thank you, sister. You should go."

              She was looking at him with a strange expression, somewhere between concern and confusion. "Why are you doing this?" she asked again. "You're not... I mean..."

              "What's her name?" he asked.

              She was taken aback by his question. "H-Hannah."

              "Because..." He paused, feeling embarrassed again. He didn't want to tell her it was because, a lifetime ago, his life had been made a hell of a lot brighter by the right person keeping a secret, by a woman who had been a sister to his mother and willing to house him when he had been a fugitive in his own country. "Because there has never been a time when we didn't have to break their rules to have the freedom they enjoy," he said finally. "Until that time comes, we have to help each other. The only way I know how to repay her kindness is by passing it on..." He said the last part almost without meaning to and flushed. "Just, go to Hannah and be happy."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deviantart -http://katherinesummers.deviantart.com/  
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> Tumblr - http://katherinehaswords.tumblr.com/


	3. Resistance

In the days that followed, he had to use all his skill and cunning to avoid being seen. At first, he was reluctant to allow the use of the secret tunnel under the mountain. After so long he had come to think of it as his, but the more abuses he witnessed from his vantage point, the more vindicated he felt in letting it go. One night, when he was sure he would not be caught, he left a message on the side of the road in Gerudo. He was willing to bet that the majority of Hylians wouldn't understand it, and dismiss it as something that had always been there. After all, there were little signs and signposts all over the region for those who knew what to look for, and they were mostly just ancient references, their original purpose lost to living memory. On the off chance that one of them had bothered to learn the language, he made it purposefully vague so that it might be mistaken for a prayer.

              _Look to Nabooru for safe passage._

In addition to this, he scratched numerals up the path leading to the tunnel, giving his sisters a trail to follow. No one would find the first one unless they literally looked north at the mountainside. Anxious that he might have been too obvious, he alternated between watching the checkpoint and the road, but he needn't have bothered. He had been right about the Hylian soldiers not giving the message a second glance, and he felt a swell of pride when two Gerudo paused over his jagged scrawl, only for one of them to raise their head north and grab her companion, pointing. He was grateful that they had the sense to wait for that section of the road to be deserted before disappearing under the mountain. Satisfied, he abandoned his watch of the road.

              Despite his newfound sense of purpose, Nabooru mountain was not a hospitable place. He was no stranger to sleeping rough, but he was no longer a young man. Finding shelter in a cave further west, he slept on his cloak and lived as best he could off the mushrooms that clung to the side of sheer rock faces and the rabbits and voles that were flushed out of their holes by foxes. Predators left him alone. He had only his sword as a weapon, which was hardly suitable for hunting, and he had to be conservative with his magic. Blasting birds out of the sky with fire might be a handy trick to keep him fed, but he didn't want to invite an investigation from the Hylians with smoke and explosions.

              He wasn't bored, but he was restless. He was happy to have provided some kind of aid to his people, but he grew more and more frustrated as he became familiar with the workings of the checkpoint. It didn't seem to be about goods and trading, as far as he could see. Gerudo were approaching empty handed and denied egress regardless. Some who were trying to gain entry were stopped too, searched and turned away. He witnessed more scuffles and fights, especially from Gerudo trying to come home. It wasn't long before the secret of Nabooru Tunnel spread and it became two-way highway for a select few. He had been worried that overuse would draw attention to it, but they were clever, staggering arrivals and departures. It wasn't uncommon for him to see someone struggle against the border guards and backtrack, apparently defeated, only to reappear a day later on the desert side of the tunnel, making it appear as if there was no dip in traffic via the official channels. To the Hylian's discomfort, veils became gradually fashionable again, something he had not seen among non-military Gerudo since he was a child, but made it yet harder for Hylians to spot individuals at a distance.

              It only made it more obvious to him that it wasn't Gerudo goods that were contraband, but Gerudo themselves. He had only ever met Zelda formally once and he had assumed then that her curt stiffness had been due to her shock at seeing him, for he had heard nothing but stories of her kindness, her grace and generosity. This was the women who so quickly brought the peoples of Hyrule back together after a century of isolationism following the Calamity. Little though he knew of her, he had to admit that she had achieved an impressive feat in bringing a land of disparate sustenance farmers, timid travellers and closed off villages together in a functioning, successful state in no more than a year. This was the woman who had worked with Lady Urbosa to bring down Ganon. She was no enemy of the Gerudo. Indeed, before all this had happened, he would have been certain that the Gerudo, proud though they were, would be far more likely to pledge loyalty to Zelda than consent to following him, despite his being one of them. Was it possible that this stifling control of the border was sanctioned by that same Zelda? This question niggled at the back of his mind. His solution was simply a bandage, a temporary fix for a much larger problem. He needed more information. Specifically, he needed to know where they were getting their orders from.

              His plan for doing so was crude, but he intended to leave Gerudo soon anyway and hoped that the information he gained would give him direction. From his hiding place, he watched the workings of the blockade, noting the comings and goings of the soldiers. He had the luxury of time, and so was able to notice larger patterns of behaviour. The woman who had stopped him, a captain, seemed to enjoy taking walks. He wouldn't have noticed, only she went alone, with no apparent purpose and at the same time every week. She left with the kind of air of someone struggling between urgency and reluctance, further masked by a show of joviality as she waved goodbye to her fellows. Curious, he followed her.

              She took the road south, but to his surprise, she turned east into a valley. Careful to keep himself hidden, he stuck to the natural overpasses and crept along the cliff edges. She seemed to want to stay out of sight as well, drifting towards the shadows like a guilty person, throwing up her hood so that she was nothing but a black shape bobbing along the road. She stopped, bowing over something in her hands. Light fluttered into existence as she lit a lantern and left it on a ledge in the sandstone. It wasn't yet night time, but the sun was low and the pinprick of light from the lantern made the gathering darkness more absolute, throwing monstrous shadows up against the rock. She seemed to be waiting for something. He settled in.

              One of the shadows stepped out from the wall and took form and he sat up a little straighter. A figure, lithe and androgynous, clad in black and red, the light of the lantern catching the edges of a white porcelain mask. The Hylian captain didn't seem afraid of the Yiga Clansman. She simply waited for him to approach, her face obscured by her hood. They exchanged words, though he was too far away to hear them, and the Yiga handed over a pouch. Transaction complete, they shook hands and parted, the cloaked figure gliding back the way she had come while the Yiga watched her leave. If Ganondorf had been curious before, he was now intensely interested. He watched the clansman go and began his pursuit.

              It was difficult to keep up, and more than once he thought he had lost his quarry. The clansman was small and fast, slipping between shadows effortlessly, silent in the falling night. Ganondorf was in every way the opposite. He followed the curve of the canyon south, frowning and keeping his eyes fixed on the shadowy figure beneath him. Yarna Valley finished in a dead end, he knew, and sure enough, the Yiga was standing in front of a solid rock wall. Holding his breath, he saw the man raise his hand to touch the stone and pull something away from it - a panel, painted to look like the rest of the wall. Underneath, there seemed to be some kind of switch or lever, because the yiga made to put his hand into the little hollow he had made. This was his chance. He descended onto ground level.

              He was spotted as soon as he came within shouting distance of the clansman, and the pursuit became a chase. What he lacked in stealth, he made up for in brute force, throwing a spear of fire that caught the clansman off guard, forcing them to hit the ground, and giving him the precious time he needed to close some distance between them. He expected the clansman to disappear at any moment in a cloud of smoke, but he continued to flee. Ganondorf continued to slow him down, targeting him when he tried to climb out of the valley. The only way he could escape was by either clambering over the wall or try to run past him. Tired, confused by the sudden attack, the clansman took a stand, drawing his sickle. He must have been young and inexperienced, because it only took a moment for Ganondorf to have him at his mercy. The clansman raised his sickle, but before he could bring it down in a viable strike, Ganondorf had him by the wrist in a vice-like grip, flaring the Malice inside him so that the clansman whimpered and struggled, the skin on his forearm hissing and smoking. He dragged him off the road, weapon abandoned, into a natural alley formed between two cliffs, and threw him to the ground. The clansman barely weighed anything, but after what he had seen, he was hardly in a merciful mood.

              "I have questions."

              The Yiga swore at him.

              Ganondorf planted his boot on his chest, pinning him to the ground and feeling him scrabble against his leg like a trapped animal.

              "What were you paying the Hylian captain for?" He leaned forward, applying pressure.

              "Can't... breathe..." The yiga wheezed, vainly trying to prize the boot away from him.

              Ganondorf relented, seizing him by the collar and forcing him into a sitting position against the wall of the alley. He had made a ball of fire in his hand, holding it close to the Yiga before removing the mask. A pale face looked back at him, glistening with sweat, grey-eyed and silver haired.

              "I know you," Ganondorf said, peering at him. "You... you came to me at the labyrinth. You called me Ganon." A terrible smile spread across his face.

              The yiga didn't speak, paralysed, eyes flicking between Ganondorf's face and the fire curling around his fingers.

              "Do you remember what I said I'd do if I ever saw you again...?"

              No answer.

              "Tell me what I want to know, boy, and I might let you live," he lied. He was very close to him, crouched over him with one hand around his throat, pushing the young man’s face upwards so that he was forced to meet his yellow eyes. "What were you paying for?"

              It was several seconds before the Yiga found his voice, but even then it was slick with mocking. "You should be asking how _much_ I paid, Gerudo _King_. It takes shockingly little to convince these Hylians to turn on you. We might be helping it along, but it is your people who did much of the work for us."

              "Speak plainly," Ganondorf growled, tightening his grip around the yiga's neck

              "The Hylians are reminded how insidious and untrustworthy Gerudo are, keep you in the desert." He was struggling to get the words out, but now that he was talking, he seemed to take pleasure in it, gloating. "Desert like kettle... Pressure rises... Someone lashes out... Someone gets killed. Cold war becomes hot war."

              "Why?" he hissed. "Is it just a case of divide and conquer, or is there anything reason why you creeps need the two greatest fighting forces in Hyrule distracted?"

              It was the Yiga who was smiling now, licking his lips. "You were such a disappointment..." he breathed. "Off chasing your own _shadow_ when Hyrule needed a King of Darkness. You have _Him_ inside you... You could have been so powerful. So _glorious._ I'm glad you've returned. You'll see what you could have been... and weep."

              If the clansman had expected to anger him, he had failed. His face fell as Ganondorf let out a little chuckle, as if he had told a joke. "You're always so sure," he sneered. "You think you're the heralds of some great darkness. So did the ones who came before, and those that came before them. It's pathetic. You don't even realise how small you are. Your lives are a fraction of a second, your actions grains of sand in the desert." He leaned closer, his voice just above a whisper. Malice seeped from the palm of his hand and the yiga began to choke, eyes wide and terrified. "We don't even remember what they used to call people like you because no one ever cared enough to write down their failures. You're going to tell me what your plans are, you're going to die, and no one will remember you."

              "You're right," he said, a definite edge of madness in the way his eyes widened. "No one will remember us... because no one will be around to. Don't you see? This world has been trying to end itself since its very dawn. We are just bringing about the will of fate. It's coming, but you won't see it until it's too late."

              "What's coming? What are you trying to do?"

              The Yiga clamped his mouth shut, closing his eyes as if in meditation. Ganondorf shook him, but his body was limp, heavy. Frowning, he checked over the body, furious to find that he had not noticed the needle jutting out from his wrist, hidden under his sleeve until the yiga has slid it into his own thigh. He swore. There must have been only enough poison to kill himself, otherwise he would have struck out with it while Ganondorf was preoccupied with his interrogation. Or maybe he was just a fool trying to make a grand gesture. He would never know.

              In the distance he heard wolves howl. If someone were to find the body, the Yiga would know their operation had been discovered and flit, so he had to make it look like some tragic misfortune. Taking a deep breath, he took out his sword and went about the grisly business of modelling claw marks and slashes across the legs and torso, opening the belly so that the air was thick with the smell of blood. Scavengers would come to feed and add authenticity to the illusion. He wiped his sword on a still clean part of the yiga's clothes before leaving the alley and looking about himself. There didn't seem to be any sign that he was being watched.

              He made his way back to the fork in the road and ascended into the hills once more, moving at a pace. His heart was racing, his blood pounding with fury. So it was all deliberate. As much as he would never believe anything a member of the Yiga Clan said to him, he couldn't help but reflect bitterly how easy it would have been to set the two peoples against each other. There had always been an inherent prejudice buried somewhere between the surface. All it took, apparently, was a bag of rupees to remind the Hylians where to find it.

              He found himself at the entrance to Nabooru Tunnel. He had planned to leave Gerudo tonight, figuring that he had nothing left to do here, but now he had a new purpose. Just beneath the final numeral he had left to mark the trail, he carved out a new message, this one far less vague in its meaning. When he had finished, he stood back to admire his work, finding to his surprise that he was smiling, restless with excitement.

              Something caught his eye and he turned. Just inside the entrance to the tunnel, someone had left a wooden bowl beneath a metal figurine. He had never seen this before - it must have been left by one of the Gerudo travelling in or out of the tunnel. Lighting a fire in his hand, he saw the figurine was a render of the mountain’s namesake, and in the bowl was an offering of palm fruit. His smile widened. He took one of the fruit in his hand and felt it. It was a little ripe, but he was hungry, and he was sure the spirit of the sage would forgive him. He was, after all, in more need of sustenance than she was. He turned back to the message he had left, peeling the rind with his thumb-nail and admiring the work.

              _If you would resist, find me at Nabooru's peak._

 


	4. Infiltration

              Nothing happened immediately. He was patient. It would take a little time for his message to be noticed and spread. He was no stranger to waiting, to doing nothing, but he found himself forced to be busy surviving. In the Empty Place, he had done nothing, content to be consumed by his thoughts, sinking ever into himself. Here the world breathed and he was forced to deal with his hunger and his weariness, find warmth in the night and shelter in the day, though the hilltops were nowhere near as variable and intense as the desert itself. He returned to the makeshift shrine that had been left in the tunnel and found another offering and a message in his own language.

              _Hadeen Nabooru, la'aseeb aat hituur_

Roughly translated, it was a charm addressed to the "Servant of Nabooru" meant to ward off danger and bring good fortune. He left this where it was, moved by the gesture, and took the food in the bowl, departing before he was caught.

              On the fourth day, he emerged from the cave he was sleeping in and found that someone else had set up camp on the level ground below the peak of the mountain. Anxious that a party of Hylians had tracked him, he approached cautiously, and saw the group was made up of one Hylian and five Gerudo, armed and armoured, with packs and supplies as if ready for a journey. At a distance, he recognised the round faced tawny-haired Hylian as Hannah, the one he had reunited with her lover who was sitting next to her, a great deal happier than when he had last seen her. The other four he did not know. He felt a small sinking in his stomach. As unlikely as it would be, he had hoped that Sun... He put her from his mind.

              He stood up straighter, wishing he was more groomed and tidy, and came up to the circle. Two of the Gerudo stood, and he saw their hands hover over the hilts of their scimitars. Would there ever be a time when he didn't have to greet people carefully?

              "Sav'aaq eishai," he said, "ai yida," he continued, nodding to the Hylian.

              He saw her peer up at him and then whisper to her girlfriend; "what's he saying?"

              "He's just saying hello..." She replied, not taking her eyes off him.

              He cleared his throat, speaking in Hylian. "Thank you for coming."

              "Kireth told us it was you who left the messages," said the one closest to him.

              "Kireth?"

              Kireth, the Hylian's girlfriend, raised her hand in a timid wave.

              "I assume you all know who I am," he said.

              They nodded.    

              "Alright." He felt awkward. He didn't remember the last time he had been in a group situation like this. "I need to know your names."

              There were Hannah and Kireth, who seemed the least tense around him, though he noticed that Hannah was quiet and withdrawn, intimidated by the company she found herself in. Then there was Daniyah, the tallest of them and a royal guard. Ghana, strangely, spoke with an accent, which he later found out was because she was not born in Gerudo. Finally, Nadira and Farah were blood sisters and had the same dark angled eyes. They were the eldest here, closer to his age than the rest of them. He noted this with some interest. Rebellion remained the luxury of the youth, apparently. Thankfully, no one brought up his undesirable status. They all appeared to be here in good faith, serious about making a change.

              "I want to make something clear," he said, once they had finished introducing themselves. "We're not here to fight the Hylians." As he suspected, a few of the faces took on confused expressions.

              "Who then?"

              "The Hylians at the checkpoint are being manipulated by the Yiga Clan," he began and explained what he had seen and done, leaving out some of the grimmer details of his encounter with the clansmen.

              Daniyah appeared unconvinced. "So, they take bribes to make our lives difficult," she said. "How does this make them our friends? They are corrupt and it's hurting us."

              "We must assume," said Ghana, "that they are outliers." Daniyah scowled at her and she continued hurriedly, "I mean, I'm not saying that they are saints, only that they are bad apples. Not _all_ Hylians would take a bribe." She glanced at Hannah who flushed and looked at the ground.

              Kireth shuffled a little closer to her, taking her hand.

              "The Yiga want you to turn against the Hylians, and Hyrule in general," Ganondorf said. "They have already succeeded in tipping the soldiers down there against us. They want to turn this situation into a powder keg. All that's needed is for the resentment to spill over. I understand that it's tempting to see them as your enemy, but in doing so you would be attacking the symptoms, not the sickness."

              "I think it's wrong what they're doing..." Hannah mumbled and then turned a yet darker shade of red when everybody looked at her. He was impressed. She, at least, had come here thinking she was going to be sabotaging her own people. It must have been difficult for her. A thought occurred to him.

              "Hannah, where are you from?"

              "Kakariko, originally," she stammered.

              "Can you speak Sheikah?"

              "I, uh... Yes, some. My father taught me. Why?"

              The thought had evolved into an idea. "The goal is to eradicate the Yiga operation here in Gerudo. We want to take away the Hylian's incentive to keep oppressing us, and we want to cut off an arm of the organisation that is sowing the seeds of this conflict. Furthermore, there's information I want to gather. The Yiga are up to something. There's a reason they want us distracted. We need to find out what they're building or planning, and take that to the Chief, and possibly the Queen. That, I believe, is the most important part of all of this. It's not about revenge. It's not about teaching the Hylian's a lesson. We don't need to prove anything to them. This great plan of theirs is coming to fruition on the Plateau, and our home is at risk because of it, so we need to neutralise it as soon as possible. That is our priority."

              "Okay, so the Yiga are our focus," said Farah. "What is the plan?"

              "Well, we don't have the numbers for an assault on their base. We're going to have to be a little craftier than that. If the base is underground, which it must be, then something like a fire is going to be devastating if it gets out of control."

              "A fire?"

              "Hannah, you will be our Yiga clanswoman. You will go in the front door and let us in a back way. But not before you've gathered as much written information as possible, _anything_ that looks remotely like a plan, or a schematic, or a to-do list. Once that's done, we'll spread out, set multiple fires and then leave."

              Hannah went white as a sheet, eyes wide. "W-what?"

              "Don't be afraid," he said, trying to sound kind. "If at any point you think you're being rumbled, simply leave the way you came in and we'll regroup and try something else. This isn't an all or nothing bid."

              "And what if she can't leave?" Kireth challenged.

              "I'm not going to pretend that there isn't some risk inherent to the task. I'm not going to force anyone to do anything. You're all here of your own free will. And if any of you have any ideas to minimise that risk, speak freely."

              There was a pause.

              "We need to get a hold of a uniform for her," said Nadira.

              "Do we?" This was Ghana. "Are your Yiga always in costume? In Central Hyrule, they're very hidden, going about looking like any other traveller or villager. Simply knowing the entrance to the base might be enough proof for them."

              "It will help if you act entitled," Farah said, speaking to Hannah. "Don't be hesitant or offended if they question you. Correct _them_ if you can. Convince yourself that you're _meant_ to be there and if they give you trouble, _they're_ acting inappropriately."

              "I... I'm not sure about this..." Kireth shifted uncomfortably, but it was Hannah who spoke up.

              "I'll do it," she said, in a surprisingly strong voice. "I want to help. He... he helped us," she nodded and Ganondorf. "And if one of you is still willing to do that after everything my people have put you through, then one of us has to stand up and repay in kind."

              "Thank you," he said. "We'll do this tomorrow, in the early hours, when most of them are going to be sleeping. If there is any one of you who wants to leave now, go. There will be no resentment."

              No one moved.

              "Excellent," he smiled. "Let's go over it again, in more detail."

             

              xxx

 

              Hannah's heart was beating so hard that she could barely breathe. It was several hours until sunrise and the darkness was absolute, but she had been told not to make a light. Yiga were supposed to be agents of darkness, comfortable in the monochrome world of night, just another shadow. The Gerudo man had shown her at dusk where to find the panel in the wall, but when she reached it, it was as if her memory had deserted her. Everything was so different at this time of night. Putting her hands on the cold stone, she felt about blindly, trying not to let her breathing get out of control. She didn't have time to be messing up like this. Not only would she let Kireth's people down, but if she was caught groping out here by the Yiga, she didn't think she would have the nerve to bluff her way out of it.

              Finally, her fingernails caught the edges of something and the pried it from the wall. This was it. She stood paralysed for a moment. Once she pulled the lever, there was no going back. "Hylia," she whispered, "Din, whoever - please don't let me screw this up..." Taking a deep breath, she reached in and found a handle, which she pulled out and down. There was a click, deep and heavy behind the rock. Holding her breath, feeling weak with anxiety, she waiting. For long seconds, nothing happened. Then she heard a voice, muffled but close by, coming from the other side of the stone.

              "Password?"

              There was a password!? Panic flooded her and she almost fled there and then, but she wrestled with it, forcing herself to stay calm and remember what Farah had said. "I... uh. Ganon, the password is Ganon."

              There was a pause. It had been a wild guess, and it obvious by the awkward silence that she was wrong, and she imagined the agent on the other side of the wall frozen with indecision. How often did someone get the password wrong? What was the actual procedure for when that happened? Or perhaps whoever had requested the password was already waking up their companions, ready to seize her.

              Clearing her throat, she said, in a more authoritative tone; "I said that password is Ganon. What's taking so long?"

              To her shock and delight, she heard the voice again. "No, it's... Who are you?"

              She had rehearsed her story with Farah, who had come up with a reasonable excuse for her to be there. "I'm Rosanne. I've come from central Hyrule with some intelligence. Your boss knows to expect me."

              "I... I haven't heard anything like that..." the voice sounded hesitant. She pressed her advantage.

              "What makes you think they'd tell you anything? The only reason I'm telling you is out of courtesy so you don't get yourself in trouble."

              "I'm sorry... I can't let you in without the password."

              "The password changed last night. Has no one told you that at least? Goddess, what kind of security is this when the watchmen don't even know the right password!" She was speaking in a whisper, but made sure to sound indignant. She was glad that the bottom half of her face was obscured in a scarf so that her smile was hidden, even though no one could possibly see anything in the pitch dark. She wasn't enjoying herself; it was a nervous smile, something that happened when she was afraid. Her hands were shaking and she held them in front of her to steady them.

              "It... changed?"

              "Yes! It's Ganon. And if you don't let me in right now, you'll wish it was Him you were speaking to!"

              "You say Master Sota is expecting you?"

              "Yes!"

              "I... I'll just check. Please wait."

              "No!" she hissed, hoping that her voice didn't betray her terror. "It's the middle of the night, you fool! Do you really think he'll appreciate being woken up by a stupid watchman who doesn't even know the password to check if it's ok to let in an important guest like me? Look..." she paused to regain her breath, hoping that she sounded lenient, like she was doing him a favour. "I won't report you. Mistakes happen, security slips. You won't get in trouble. Just be sure to know the password in the future okay?"

              Silence. A bead of sweat formed on her forehead and she felt it run down the side her face, but she was too tense to wipe it away. Her legs itched, and she longed to get out of there, but she forced herself to remain stationary. She would never forgive herself if she lost her nerve. Kireth depended on her. She tried to focus on her. This was her chance to finally prove that she was good enough, that she wasn't just a damsel in distress. She could do this.

              There was a soft hiss and a rumble, causing her to start. The wall to her right split and rose up to form a doorway, torchlight spilling into the valley, creating a yellow square on the ground. Feeling cold chills down her spine, she made her legs work and slipped into the gap. "About time," she grumbled.

              "You're not in uniform..."

              The Yiga watchman was masked and clad in the form-fitting red and black leather. She shuddered. He was several inches taller than her, with broad shoulders and long legs, and the painted eye on his mask gave him an alien quality that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.

              "Oh yes," she said, pleased that she could still sound disgruntled in front of him. "What? Did you expect me to just walk right up to the checkpoint in the pass dressed like that?" she put on a slow, mocking voice that was supposed to sound witless. "'Oh, hello there Captain. Just passing through on Yiga business. Here's my papers' - don't be so stupid."

              He stood up a little straighter, and she could see that he was flustered.

              "Uh... Sorry, Ma'am."

              "Never mind. Just take me to my quarters. I assume you at _least_ have guest quarters prepared." She was aware that she might be laying it on a little thick, but Farah had told her that if she wanted to look important and superior, she had to act like she was dealing with a bunch of children. She waited impatiently for him to seal the entrance and reset the switch, before following him into the hideout.

              To her relief, they did apparently have guest quarters ready. She made an effort not to walk too stiffly and though she paying close attention to the route they were taking, keeping track of the turns and stairways as they descended, she tried to make it seem as if she were tired and disinterested. The base seemed empty, and though they did pass one other night watchman, he was leaning against a doorway, eating and looking sleepy. It was barely a skeleton guard. This bolstered her confidence.

              She didn't thank the watchman who left her alone in a small minimalist chamber fit for a soldier. Her little charade had been all well and good, but when the door closed behind her, she felt suddenly claustrophobic. There were no windows, and she had to conclude that they were deep underground. Fanning her face and pacing the room, she did her best to psyche herself up for the task ahead. Now it was time for her to leave the chamber and go in search of those documents Ganondorf wanted.

 

              xxx

 

              "You shouldn't be here."

              "No."

              Farah was gazing at him with interest. He couldn't see her expression in the dark, but he could feel it. They were outside, waiting for the signal that Hannah had found a backdoor. The night had proven uncomfortably warm and he had left his cloak back at Nabooru. Strangely, he wasn't anxious about their mission, but excited. When was the last time he had taken a problem into his own hands like this? If he could succeed here, then maybe he might have something to build on. In the end, he had been intensely relieved that word of this gathering had not reached Sun, or she had chosen not to find him. None of the Gerudo had made mention of his past or banishment. They had trusted him.

              Which was why he felt a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach when Farah brought it up.

              "Chief Riju knows you're here," she told him. "That's why she sent Daniyah. She wanted to see it really was you."

              He said nothing. There was nothing he could say to explain why he had chosen to break the command of the Chief. Any excuse or reasoning would only serve to make his situation worse as far as he could see.

              "She thought that the Hylian's would capture you."

              "I know."

              "What will you do after this?"

              He looked at her, a black shape against a deep starless sky. "I'm going to give the information we find to you to give to the Chief and then I'm going to..." he stopped. "I'll... try and spread the word." He didn't want to think about leaving Gerudo. It would be like going from one fire to another. He doubted that he would be welcome in any village or inn. He would probably be captured and questioned and possibly imprisoned for at least the duration of the conflict and then... he had no idea. He didn't know how long it would take to defeat the Yiga and he couldn't help but think that he would end up blamed for whatever happened, despite his actions tonight. Imprisonment was no future, even if it did seem like the inevitable proper end for him. He thought of the conversation he had once had with Riju, years ago now, in front of that stained-glass window at Hyrule Castle. Even if the glass was shattered, everything would be reassembled again to form the correct picture.

              "You're doing good things here, you know," she said. "It might seem like nothing, but you've given us time. We've been able to survive off the food we can bring in through the tunnel. Some people think that it's the spirit of Nabooru come to guide us in this difficult time, so in that way, you've given us some hope. I mean, I don't want to overstate it," she muttered, as an afterthought. "But it has reminded us that we're not completely helpless."

              "It won't matter..." he replied. "The Chief is right about me." He wondered how much Farah would know about his reputation or history. "I'm a large part of why this is happening to your people. I can't undo it. All that makes sense to me is to try and lessen my impact, reverse _some_ of the damage I have caused simply by being here."

              "I think that's because you're..." she trailed off, as if unable to find the right words. "I mean, I think that no matter what happens, you'll always come back. It's in our blood to return to our people..."

              He was becoming uncomfortable, embarrassed. He had the urge to tell her to desist, that she didn't know anything about him or his motivations, but he stopped himself. It was better than condemnation. It hurt to hear her say these things, but it was only because he wanted them to be true in a deep, raw part of him that he didn't want to admit existed.

              Clearing his throat, he asked, "if Daniyah is here on Riju's orders, then why is she helping me?"

              Farah shrugged. "She has a certain level of autonomy. Also, imagine being about go back to the Chief with not only your whereabouts, but the news that the Gerudo Yiga base has been destroyed. I'm not saying that she's ambitious but..." She let out a soft chuckle.

              "Working with me is hardly going to help her career. I'm practically an enemy of the state."

              "Not working _with_ you," she corrected. "Working _for_ the Gerudo. The benefits outweigh the whatever fraternisation she could be accused of. Chief Riju is pragmatic."

              He was about to answer, but the darkness was interrupted by a pinprick of light. It wasn't Hannah. He had posted Kireth and Daniyah together on the east side of the canyon, while he and Farah had taken the west side. Finally, Nadira and Ghana were watching the south side so that the base was being observed from almost every angle. In this way, they would be prepared to spot Hannah's signal wherever she found an alternative entrance. He had expected there would be more than one, allowing the Yiga to slip in and out from multiple points. The light that he could see was from the latter pair, flashing bright and then doused almost immediately. Together, they left their watch and went to join the rest.

             

              xxx

 

              She had expected the hideout to be like a maze, but it was built methodically, and as long as she paid attention, she knew she would make it to an exit soon enough. If she was caught after being shown to her room, she would have a hard time keeping up her story, so she was deeply relieved when she stumbled upon a room that appeared to be an armoury. There were spare suits in chests and, her heart beating frantically, she struggled into one, hiding her clothes at the bottom, under all the other spares. Dressed the part, she felt a thrill of excitement. The leather hugged her, and combined with the mask, it gave her a strong sense of anonymity that made her feel invincible. This could be dangerous, she realised. Now was not the time to become overconfident.

              She ran into no one. The base was far bigger than she might have guessed from the outside. She passed doors that had a strange set of sheikah symbols on it, which she stopped and sounded out, one character at a time. If she was reading it right, these were sleeping chambers. Putting her ear to the door confirmed this. Nothing but silence and a soft, snuffling grunt that sounded like a snore.

              The corridors were lit, but not with torches. Dim anbaric lights lined the walls, casting a dull orange light. Minutes passed. She formed a map in her mind as she explored, anxious to be able to find her way back if she needed to. Finally, she came across a ladder that led to a hatch. It was unguarded, and when she climbed up and tested the lock, she found a clever little device that made it so that it could only be opened from the inside. Shoving her shoulders up against it, she managed to swing it open and found herself in open air once more. She took off her mask and breathed deep. Like the door she had come through, the outside of the hatch had been carved and painted to look like part of the natural rock of the mountain. Making an effort to contain her excitement, she slid back down the ladder and took one of the lanterns off the wall where it hung by a hook. It unsettled her a little. She had seen something like it before, but it's steady, un-flickering light made her think of fairies trapped in bottles, as if many tiny eyes had been watching her as she crept about the base. The thought felt like an ill omen. Putting it from her mind, she climbed back up the ladder one handed and placed the lantern on the stone shelf that the door had been built into.

              A few seconds later, she saw the answering light in the distance. She couldn't stay where she was, however. Now that her companions knew were to enter the compound, it was time for her to get on with the rest of her job. Still, achieving her first objective put her in good spirits. It was going to be okay. They were going to pull this off. Replacing the mask, she slid down the ladder and turned to go back into the compound.

              That was when she saw the shadow in the doorway.

              "I can't let you go any further."

              It was as if she had been doused in freezing water. Fear paralysed her, wrapping claws around her heart. She couldn't speak.

              The figure was taller than her, male and menacing. He was dressed differently to a normal foot soldier, hooded, bulky with ornate bracers and pauldrons and a sword that was half again the length of her body, thin like a razor and glistening, hungry. A dozen stories popped up in her head, but her throat had closed up. She might have been able to fool the watchman, but this Blademaster would not be so easily convinced.

              "Did you think we wouldn't know what you're doing?" His voice was muffled somewhat by the mask that glowered at her, the red inverted eye unblinking, making her tremble. "Did you think you were here because you outsmarted us? We let you in..." He wasn't speaking Hylian, but Sheikah, and the words seeped with an unspoken threat, each syllable heavy with implication. "Where is the Gerudo dog?"

              She shook her head, feeling the blood drain from her face. Had she led them all into a trap. She had to find Kireth, had to warn her.

              "Answer me..." The sword rose, almost of its own accord, to hover below her chin. With a dexterity that she would have thought impossible given the length of the blade and the size of the man holding it, he hooked the tip under her mask and lifted it from her face. Exposed, she was aware he could see the tears forming in her eyes. Something hot trickled past the collar of the uniform, and she realised that, in doing so, he had sliced her chin. She had either been too cold with fear, or the blade too sharp for her to notice right away. Now, she felt it, a clean, pure sting that made her breath shudder. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn't force the words out.

              "They're going to come through here," he said, coming closer. As he did, he rested the edge of the sword against her shoulder, and with every step, he slid the length of it against her collarbone. The blade sank into her flesh, cutting through the leather as it were paper and dyeing her shoulder black. She gasped, the precision pain slicing through the fog of fear. With terrible clarity, she realised what she had to do. He was going to take her away, and if that happened, he would surely kill her. She had to keep him here until Kireth came for her. It was her only chance. If only she had listened when Kireth had suggested she learn how to defend herself.

             

              xxx

 

              Ganondorf would have preferred to enter the hideout at different locations, but asking Hannah to find them multiple entry points would have put her at significantly more risk for only a slight advantage. As it was, he was not happy with the covert nature of the plan. He knew it was necessary, but more than anything he would have preferred an excuse to fight his way through. If he had been alone, he might have tried it. But he had other people to think about, and he couldn't convince himself that any significant losses tonight would be justified by the greater good, even if they were successful.

              He reached the secret hatch and found Ghana and Nadira standing over it, looking tense and unhappy. A voice rose up from inside.

              "Is that him?"

              He didn't need to ask who was being asked for.

              "It's me."

              "Come on down, Ganondorf. I want to see what you look like. I don't believe we've met."

              "Who are you?"

              "Blademaster Kazuki. I have your little Hylian friend. Trespassing is rude, Ganondorf. We'll have to teach her a little lesson..."

              He didn't like the way Kazuki's voice sounded. Hannah, if she was with him, was silent.

              "You seem to be under the impression you have the upper hand," he growled. Not being able to see Yiga Blademaster was both useful and disquieting. He was uncomfortable not being able to see who or what he was dealing with, but Kazuki had the same problem. "We know where you are now. My companions and I can simply retreat and return with a larger force from the desert."

              "You would find nothing but an empty mountain."

              "And you would have been forced out of your little nest and out of Gerudo. Remind me how we don't benefit either way."

              There was a pause.

              "Sometimes it's not about the big picture, Ganondorf. Sometimes, it's about the little things." He heard a gasp and a whimper below and swore under his breath. "We know what you've been doing at Nabooru. Quite admirable. Some might say heroic. Little things... bringing travellers home. Enabling traders to make a living... Reuniting lovers..." There was a ragged cry and he started despite himself, taking a step closer to the hatch. The other three stiffened. He noticed now that they had drawn weapons while he had been talking to the Blademaster. Kazuki was not finished, however. "Maybe if you do enough little things, they'll let you go home. That's what you want, isn't it? We've been watching you, learning all about Ganon's progeny." The voice took on a sickly tone. "Family, a legacy, somewhere to _belong_. It's like a children's story! Maybe if I do a few little things myself..." There was a shriek this time, high and short, cut off abruptly.

              "He's going to kill her," Nadira snapped. He could feel the tension growing, directed at him as if he were the one holding Hannah. In a way, he was.

              "... Then I will have the pleasure of taking that away from you forever," Kazuki continued as if there had been no interruption.

              Kireth would arrive soon. He scanned the horizon, but outside of their little sphere of light there was nothing but darkness. There was no accounting for what she might do when she got here. Without a word, he lowered himself into the hatch, tucking his arms close to him, and dropped to the stone floor.

              The Blademaster stood before him, holding Hannah in front of him like a shield. She was in a bad way. Blood was pooling at her feet, soaking her clothes. Her head hung loosely, but he could see her breathing. He had seen the name _Blademaster_ written in books detailing the history of the Yiga, but he had never actually seen one. No source had once mentioned their size. He had the surreal experience of standing face to face with a Sheikah his own height, with an impressive muscled form that seemed almost ridiculous up close. The sword he carried was longer than his own. It must be an illusion, some trick or magic. Defensively, he reached for the Malice inside him and felt with a jolt that there were two sources; the endless twisting poison within him, but also an external source.

              The Yiga was emanating a weak force of Malice.

              Realisation dawned on him. It not only explained his size but the strangely supernatural aura that Kazuki exuded. He felt a smile tug the corners of his lips.

              "Ah. I see..." he said.

              "What?"

              "Alright, it's time to let the girl go. You wanted to see me? Here I am." While he spoke, he concentrated on the pulsing magic, attempting to follow the rhythm. The Malice inside the Blademaster was quick and fluttery, like a bird in a cage. The trick was reaching out to it, calming it, bringing it down to his rhythm.

              "It doesn't work like that, Ganondorf. We're going to have to kill all of you. How else can we send your heads to your Chief? We can't have people going about thinking that they can interfere with ours plans, you see?"

              "Then do it. Fight me. Have the glory of being the one who took me down."

              Blood hit the floor in a sick spatter and Hannah's head lolled to her shoulder, eyelids fluttering. He drew his sword, though he had no intention of fighting. Not yet. He found it. It was like closing his hands around that little fluttering bird. Malice pounded like blood in his head. Raising his hand, he saw Kazuki shiver.

              "That thing you have inside you. It's not a gift. It doesn't belong to you."

              He closed his fist, and Kazuki convulsed, clutching his chest. He let out a cry, high and terrified. Hannah fell out of his hold and landed on her hands and knees, still conscious. The Blademaster had also sunk to the floor. His mask had become dislodged and it hit the ground, splitting in two, and Ganondorf could see his pale face, surprisingly young, twisted in pain, teeth gritted. Stepped past Hannah, he balled Kazuki's hair in his fist, hauling his head up and back so that the neck was exposed, before cutting his throat in one swift motion. There was a delicious mixture of emotions in that outraged, horrified expression, and Kazuki gave a few last shuddering coughs, spitting blood and black smoke, before the light in his eyes died and the body went limp.

              Ganondorf dropped him, feeling his skin tingle with adrenaline. There would be more coming. It was impossible that the Blademaster was the only one aware of their presence. But for now, he let out a deep breath and knelt beside Hannah.

              She had been cut in several places, but most were superficial wounds. They would sting and burn, but they were clean, unlikely to scar let along cause any serious damage. There was a deeper cut at the base of her neck that went as deep as her collar bone. This was where the blood was coming from, drenching her entire right side. He swore.

              "Can you speak?"

              She nodded.

              "I can stop the bleeding, but I'm not healer. This is going to hurt."

              "Do it."

              He was telling the truth. His command of fire was imprecise, more useful as a weapon than a tool. He could channel it through his hands, but not with any real accuracy, certainly not enough to neatly cauterise the wound, but with nothing else to hand and with little time, it would have to do. He removed his gloves and, holding his breath so that he didn't have to smell the blood and burnt skin, he peeled away the slashed collar of her clothes and pressed his palm against the gash. There was a hiss, smoke seeping from under his hand and she screamed, the sound piercing his mind like a knife. Feeling sick, he pinned her with his other hand and repeated the action along the length of the cut. The skin where his hand had been was blistered and black, but it was no longer bleeding.

              There were sounds of alarm from outside, and he stood, shouting for the others to come down. Daniyah was first to descend the ladder.

              "They know we're here," he said to her. "The plan has changed. I will attract their attention while the rest of you fan out, covering as much as the base as possible and gathering anything that looks remotely important. Understood?"

              "I will fight with you," she replied and he eyed her scimitar with an appraising look. Aware that the mission had become time sensitive, he didn't contradict her.

              "What happened to her?" Kireth cried. Hanna had gotten to her feet but was still unsteady, swaying and panting. Her eyes were wide and awake, the shock of his improvised treatment apparently restoring her energy in the form of adrenaline, but unfocused. Kireth bent down to look her in the face, holding her by the shoulders, and she blinked, seeing Kireth's face as if for the first time.

              "She's been hurt," he said, "but she'll be ok." He didn't like the way her right arm hung limp and unresponsive. "You'll need to take care of her. Help her back to the camp. We'll take it from here."

              Kireth looked ready to snap at him, but she seemed to get hold of herself, leading Hannah towards the ladder and gently coaxing her up ahead of her.

              "Does everyone know what to do?" he said.

              The remaining Gerudo nodded.

              "Alright. I'm going to start setting fire to the place twenty minutes from now. It will raise an alarm. If you find anything, just leave, don't linger. If you don't, it's regrettable but don't keep looking, just get out."

              They all muttered agreement, and he and Daniyah went out into the corridor first. His heart was beating hard and he was struggling not to smile. There was a part of him that was far more pleased than he should have been that it had come to this. Knocking the pommel of his sword against the walls of the corridor while the others fanned through doors into the rest of the compound, he called out in a deep booming voice; "come out little rats! I have taken your Blademaster Kazuki, who among you will avenge him?"

              "Do you want to scare them away or draw them to you?" Daniyah laughed.

              He was about to answer, but three figured emerged from around a corner, approaching in a v-formation, their sickles held ready.

 

              xxx

 

              Despite the urgency of their situation, she felt calm. It was unusual, but Nadira was the kind of person that thrived under temporal pressure. It was difficult to be anxious about something that, win or lose, would be over before the hour was out. Moving at a sustainable pace, she crept from room to room, opening drawers and chests, scanning the walls for hidden entrances and panels. She could hear a commotion going on somewhere distant, but she remained vigilant. It was possible that the Yiga could be wise to the distraction and come looking for her and her sisters. She tried not to think of Farah, her stress held at bay by the knowledge that she would see her again in just over twenty minutes. It was difficult to be quite sure of the time, so it came down to listening for the alarm.

              The only problem was that she had no real idea what she was supposed to find. How was Ganondorf so sure that the Yiga had even written anything down? It was quite possible that any plans that had been drawn up were kept in a more secure location, written in code, or simply not recorded. She was reminded of her time before Calamity's End, where she had hunted treasure with Farah. That had also been about searching methodically for something she didn't know even existed.

              She rapped the walls periodically with her knuckles, listening for hollow spaces. She was in a kind of armoury, and didn't plan on staying too long. There was risk that Yiga might drop in here to equip themselves before heading towards the fight, running into her in the process. But then she found a wooden door that was locked and bolted and sighed. She never could resist a locked door. There was no time to pick it, and judging by the quality of the lock, it would be a simple matter for her to splinter wood around it. Backing up a few steps, the took a running kick and forced the door open on her second attempt, causing it to ricochet off the wall. Exhilerated, she looked inside to see what she had discovered.

              It seemed to be the Blademasters’ armoury. Expensive looking weapons hung from racks and manequins sported ornamental armour. She circled the room, tapping the walls.

              Tap.

              Tap.

              Tap.

              Clunk.

              She smiled.

             

              xxx

 

              Three Yiga footsoldiers lay dead on the floor and two more soon followed. He made sure that they were making a good deal of noise, waking this section of the compound and acting like a magnet for the violence. One on one, the Yiga posed little threat to them, but they were quick to surround the two Gerudo, forcing them to fight back to back. He lit his sword with fire, creating lingering after-images in the air with wide arches, keeping his opponents at a distance. Daniyah was like a snake, hiding behind a sheld and darting out to deal devastating blows. He couldn't see what she was doing, but he could hear the cries of the Yiga and was glad he let her come with him. On his own, against so many, it was entirely possibly they might overpower him.

              They had fought their way deep into the compound, dispatching Yiga on the way, until they found themselves in a kind of meeting chamber. Having sustained light injuries, their fighting became more defensive, and in their weariness, were losing control of the space, giving ground inch by inch. He wasn't afraid. He was saving his energy for a greater attack if things looked too overwhelming, and he knew that if the Yiga felt they were winning, they would be more likely to push forward, and he could keep them preoccupied. 

              In a flash of light, a footsoldier appeared in front of him amid a flutter of spell tags, close enough that Ganondorf could not easily bring his sword around to defend himself. The sickle found its mark, cutting his waist. Grunting, he seized the Yiga by the collar with his left hand turned the unfortunate footsoldier into a torch, which he then thrust away from him into a group of his fellows. They dived out the way, leaving their comrade to twist and writhe on the ground, desperately trying to smother the flames. He rolled into a banner that hung floor to ceiling and the light in the chamber flared at it caught, tongues of fire spreading at an alarming rake.

              "Time to end this," he muttered. "'Daniyah - inu d'kaah alkahuq alhkuujija. Hisa mu'ghaaq lal'tiskghil."

              _I am going to set this place alight. Be prepared to run._

              xxx

 

              It came in bags, but there was only so much she could tie to her belt, so she limited herself to the ones with the highest values, going by the helpful notations that had been painted onto the sacks. There must have been tens of thousands of rupees gathered here, as well as a wealth of confiscated goods.

              She heard the click of heels in the other room.

              "Ghana? Farah?"

              "Nadira, are you still here?" It was Ghana.

              "Yeah, come here - you won't _believe_ what I've found. I can't possibly carry it all on my own!"

              A bell sounded some rooms away, and she heard Ghana swear. The fire had been started. Time was running out. She would take the money, but she would have to leave the rest behind. It made her heart sink, but it just wasn't practical to take everything. She hurried to find Ghana in the armoury proper.

              "What do you have?"

              "These... journals I think? They're written in sheikah. I can't read them, but I thought they might be useful."

              "Good enough, I guess. Let's hope that they're important. Have you seen Farah."

              "No."

              Nadira paused. Her senses told her that she needed to leave, that Farah had probably already evacuated, and that it would be safer to trust her sister than to go looking for her, but it was with great difficulty that she wrenched herself away from the temptation and followed Ghana back to the hatch. 

             

 


	5. Brother

              Nadira and Ghana were the third party to return to the camp on Nabooru, and found Hannah, Kireth and Farah waiting for them. The two sisters embraced while Ghana went to the other two. Hannah was sleeping, and Kireth sat by her, stroking her damp hair. A fire had been lit, but despite that and the warm night, the Hylian was shivering in her sleep.

              "Farah says it's not fever," Kireth muttered. "Just shock."

              "She's been through a lot," Ghana said. "We'll need to get her to a physician, get her cleaned up. We could carry her to Kara, but honestly, I think the safest thing would be to get her down the blockade. Her people will have medics."

              "She's not supposed to be on this side of the border..." Kireth said, but she was too tired to argue. It was as if all her worry had drained her to exhaustion. "Did we pick anything up? Was it worth it?"

              "The hideout is in flames. I don't know how many Yiga Ganondorf and Daniyah took out, but we've definitely stuck a blow." She glanced behind her. "I thought they would be here already."

              "I haven't seen them."

              "There's still time..." she said. "And we picked up a few things here and there. I have these log books, and I think Nadira managed to reclaim a sizable part of their bank."

              Kireth smiled weakly. "Farah has papers. They look like maps."

              They fell silent. Ghana thought she should say something, but the morning was catching up to them. There was the faintest line of amber on the horizon and she was tired, her whole body aching. Kireth seemed to notice because she said; "go to sleep, sister. It's been a long night. I think Hannah's not the only one who's earned a rest."

             

              xxx

 

              Just under an hour passed before Ganondorf and Daniyah made it back to Nabooru. She was limping, and he was helping her up the path. A footsoldier had caught her in the calf with a spear on their way out, but she was in good spirits, carrying the minor injury like a trophy. He was pleased with their efforts, and if all they had managed to do was destroy the base, he would be content. They were greeted by Farah and Nadira, but he waved away their questions, bone weary, telling them all that it was time they slept, and they could count their successes in the daytime.

              Before he departed to his usual sleeping spot, he felt a hand on his arm and he turned. Daniyah was standing in front of him. "You handled yourself well back there," she said, her voice stiff and formal. "You should come with us when we return to Gerudo Town, _voe'eisha._ "

              For a moment, he didn't comprehend what she had said. He frowned at her and she blushed deep crimson, her composure wavering. She had spoken in Gerudo, and at first, he thought that she had stammered or misspoken. Then, he understood. She had slurred two words together to try and form another, one that didn't exist in their language.

              She had called him _brother._

              Speechless, his heart lighter than air, he was caught between embarrassment and deep gratitude. Daniyah looked horrified, thinking that she had offended him. He was aware that the others had stopped their conversations and were staring at him. Nervously, he coughed and reassembled his face into what he hoped was an appropriately neutral expression.

              "Sarqso, eisha. We'll speak about it once we've slept and recuperated." He had the mad urge to hug her. Instead, he lingered, the awkwardness of the exchange palpable. "You're a skilled warrior," he managed to say. Unable to maintain his composure very much longer, he turned away from her, trying to pretend that he didn't feel the bubble of pride swelling in his chest.

 

              xxx

 

              When he awoke, the sun was high and creeping into his little alcove. It was the mouth-watering smell wafting along on the breeze that brought him back to life. He shifted and felt his muscles cramp. Groaning, he stretched and ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to making himself look somewhat presentable. There was nothing he could do about his bloodstained clothes, and the cloak he had been sleeping on was so shredded and frayed, he doubted if it could be recovered. Emerging, he went to the camp circle that the group had set up and discovered the source of the smell.

              They had expanded the campfire and were roasting strips of meat and sunshrooms on skewers. He realised then how painfully ravenous he was, but he made his way to them timidly, almost out of habit. Instead of falling silent at his approach however, they called him and waved him over. Uncertain how to respond to this at first, he knelt in the gap they had made for him and accepted the plate handed to him by Nadira.

              He ate, listening to them as they talked about the previous night. Daniyah was in the middle of telling them their part, and she paused once or twice, giving him an opening but he shook his head, waving for her to continue. He was glad he had an excuse to keep his mouth full. It was easier than admitting he still felt self-conscious among them. The skewers were good, crude and unseasoned but after the meagre meals he had survived on, it was luxury. Combined with the glorious sunlight, his smiling companions, and the elation of victory, it was as if he were in a dream.

              It came time to decide what to do next. They laid out their haul and took an inventory. It was difficult to gauge exactly what they had. He could read sheikah a little better than the rest of them, but not by much, and it would take longer than a cursory glance to decipher what was in the three handwritten logs that Ghana had rescued. Farah's contribution interested him a little more. She had a series of letters and maps that detailed secret tunnels and underground passages that he had discovered as a young man. They weren't complete, he noted, apparently copied from older sheikah maps and preoccupied only with Hyrule Castle and the surrounding areas. Large patches of the maps were blank, and someone had annotated them in red ink. He couldn't tell for certain without examining them at length, but these seemed to be guides on how to break into the Sanctum of the castle. He made a promise to himself to take the time to really go over them.

              Once the bags of rupees had been counted up, they realised they were in the possession of a small fortune numbering under eleven thousand.

              "What do we even do with it?" Farah asked, holding a gold rupee up to the sun between her thumb and forefinger, casting a yellow reflection on her face.

              "Well, it's safe to say that it belongs to the Gerudo. So, it goes back to the Gerudo," he suggested. "We give it to Riju to invest in the town."

              They all agreed to that, although Ganondorf selected a silver rupee and handed it to Hannah. "For a healer," he explained. No one saw fit to argue with that, and she accepted it with a shy smile. To everyone's relief, Hannah had been well enough to join them for breakfast and had eaten as much as anyone else.

              "So what now?" asked Farah.

              "You will bring all of this," he gestured at the pile of treasure, "to the Chief at Gerudo Town."

              "You can come with us," Daniyah said.

              "I can't," he replied. "I'm exiled. I shouldn't even be in the desert, let alone near the town." He had thought she had spoken lightly the previous night, tired as they were and high on a job well done. So it came as a surprise when she brought it up again.

              "Yes, but your banishment was on pre-emptive terms. How can anyone suspect that you are working with the Yiga now? I will vouch for you."

              "As will I," Farah said.

              "And I," echoed her sister.

              "I was going to return to East Necluda," said Ghana. "But if you need an extra voice, I'd be happy to escort you through the desert."

              "I cannot allow you to this this," he said, feeling the heat rise in his face. "It will do you more harm than it will do me good."

              "Riju trusts me," Daniyah insisted. "I can talk to her. She will listen."

              "It's not just us," Farah went on. "You've gained a reputation. In light of everything that Zelda has done to us, and everything that you have done _for_ us, your name is no longer a curse. They're telling stories, you know." She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm not saying that they're going to throw you a parade. I'm saying that we might petition Riju to reconsider her decree. That's all. No promises."

              "And if they arrest me on the spot?" He asked.

              "They won't," Daniyah said.

              "They might," Nadira pondered.

              Farah shot her sister a look before cutting in. "They might," she admitted. "But let's put it this way. Would you rather be a prisoner of the Gerudo, or of Hyrule? It's the difference between being a political prisoner and a criminal."

              She was right, he knew. All in all, it was the better option. He could take his chances out in Hyrule, and likely meet suspicion, resistance, and capture. He did not like his odds kneeling before Queen Zelda, an unsympathetic stranger. His own people would be far more likely to show him mercy. Even after everything, he trusted them. To Hylians, he was a foreigner at best, a dangerous outlaw at worst and while he might not be "brother" to most of his people, he was still, in some small way, _uursa._

"Alright," he said cautiously. "I will accompany you."

              "So it's settled."

 

              xxx

 

              Kireth and Hannah left their party. While Hannah was recovering quickly, and was strong enough to walk, her arm was still stiff and weak, and it was possible that the soaring temperatures of the desert would exacerbate her condition. So they had decided that Hannah should seek the aid of the camp at the pass while Kireth stayed here, out of sight. They left her plenty of provisions. Apparently, the group had planned for a far longer stay away from home, so they had a generous surplus.

              At first, he walked behind them, mirroring his trip out of the desert so many weeks ago, but these were not the silent guards that had escorted him before. Through their joint effort, the women had become close, laughing and talking animatedly while they walked. When Ghana asked him what was wrong, if he was injured, he felt foolish and caught up with them. Even so, he left the conversation to them, content to listen, and they didn't seem offended.

              They used some of their funds to stay at the inn. Given its proximity to the Desert Gateway, they had rooms suitable for Gerudo and he was quietly delighted to be sleeping in a bed for the first time in what he now realised was years. They didn't overspend, but they made sure they were comfortable, purchasing a hot meal. This would have been enough for him, but Nadira discreetly took him aside.

              "I don't know how to put this delicately..." she said, shifty and red-faced.

              He waited.

              "Well. You look awful."

              He went pale. Whatever comfort he had learned to have around them vanished.

              "I don't mean to be cruel," she said hastily. "I just... You're still covered in blood and you need to throw away that cloak. We don't really have fresh clothes for you, but me and Farah can improvise something that will keep you comfortable in the desert. Just... well. I paid for a bath to be brought up to your room. Don't be offended or anything."

              In truth, he was relieved, though he struggled to keep his indignance to himself. She had done him a favour, he knew. He sighed. "That was unnecessary. We can't spend all the money before we get to Gerudo Town. Ask permission before you go buying anything else."

              "Everyone agreed it was a good idea."

              When had they been speaking about him behind his back? Mortified, he muttered something under his breath about wanting to get started on translating the journals and excused himself as quickly as he could without being rude.

              They had bought three rooms between the five of them, everyone accepting without it being said that he should get his own space. At the time, he thought this was excessive, but after Nadira's little gesture, he was infinitely relieved he hadn't argued. He had spent so much time alone that he was now accustomed to a certain degree of privacy and solitude. Being around the group was uplifting, especially given that they treated him like an equal. Not quite a friend, he hadn't earned that much yet, but not a stranger or an adversary. However, the constant worry that he would say or do something to make a fool of himself was exhausting, and he was glad to have this time to refresh and go over the extent of the damage.

              The water was cold by the time he got to it, but he didn't care. It was enough to peel off the layers of his old clothes and count his new scars. His hair was so covered in dust that it had become dull. He was not vain man by any means, but it was pleasing to restore himself to something close to presentable. They had been right; it would not have been appropriate to meet Riju again looking like a vagrant. It was also an excellent opportunity to clean his wounds and wash his clothes. By the time he was finished, the water was the colour of rust and he felt energised, ready to take on the task of reading the journals.

              It was slow going. Time wore on. He lit candles as the daylight failed and burned them to stubs. There were simple writing supplies in the desk drawers case guests wished to send letters, and he made notes. Along with the map, he was able to piece together key elements. It seemed as though the Yiga had been interested for a very long time in a helmet of some kind that had been left in the sanctum of Hyrule Castle and had gone to great lengths to retrieve it. One of the journals appeared to be a copy of a far older book, with intricate symbols and diagrams depicting seals and alchemical designs that he didn't understand. He came across words he knew, such as _vessel_ , _storage_ , _containment_ , and struggled to make any connections. Flipping through, he found passages he knew from memory, taken from the walls of underground chambers and lost sheikah libraries. They were the prophesies he had come to know well, copied and then annotated, characters scored out and replaced to give new meaning to the old words. In the end, he was fairly sure he could comprehend a skeleton plot. They had acquired an artefact from the sanctum - this 'helmet' - directly after Calamity's end, and hid it. Once they had figured out what to do with it, they had taken the Great Plateau, and this was where they were now. They were using magic to gather and contain _something_ , likely to do with Ganon as the word and variations of it were featured heavily in the annotations. From there, he could discern no more. It was worrying, he was sure, but without a native speaker, it was possible he had misunderstood everything, so he wasn't going to treat it as a cause for alarm yet. Still, haste would be their ally.

              He woke up, one of the log books resting open on his chest, having taken it to bed the previous night. He was about to get dressed when he heard a shuffle outside his door, and a thud that sounded like a box being placed in the hall. Curious, he went to see what it was. One of his companions, he assumed, had left a package for him. Surprised, he took it inside and opened it. A set of five phials, three filled with icy blue liquid, two with amber, were folded up in a set of desert clothes. The clothes were made up of a fine pair of three quarter length cream-coloured trousers, a kind of silk open coat that left his shoulders and arms bare and a pair of plain sandals. Trying them on, he found the trousers a little loose and the coat a little tight, but they were far lighter and more comfortable than his previous clothes. If this was what Nadira had meant when she had said they would improvise some clothes for him, he was impressed. There were just a few alterations he wanted to make before he left his room. Judging his appearance in the looking glass, he tore strips from his old clothes, wrapping them around his middle to cover not only the small cut made during the raid on the Yiga hideout, but another, older scar that he had received at the hands of the shadow via a Malice wreathed blade. It had healed, but left an ill-coloured jagged mark. He also wore his old gloves and bracers, making sure the ancient white marks on his hands and forearms were obscured. He was too old now to be ashamed of his scars, and he saw no real need for modesty, but he would rather not give his companions anything else to speculate about when he wasn't around.

              He put whatever else he could salvage back in his pack along with the elixirs, and went to find the others outside the stable. They gave him appreciative looks when they saw him. He tried to smile and seem natural.

              "Thank you for these,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t need them?"

              "They're Daniyah's spares. She's about your height, we think," Nadira replied, beaming as she admired her choices.

              "They suit you," said Daniyah, wearing her elegant bronze armour, the uniform of her station. "Are you ready to leave?"

              He nodded, feeling a twinge of anxiety as they started towards the Desert Gateway.

 


	6. Return

              The journey to Gerudo Town was far more pleasant that any he had ever taken. They flew across the distance, the time melting away as they shared stories and anecdotes, told jokes and enjoyed each other’s company. He learned a lot more about them while they travelled. Ghana had spent most of her life in Eastern Faron, where she adored the heat and humidity of the jungles and worked as a caravan guard for travellers coming to and from the beach towns. She had returned to Gerudo to visit family, having grown up in a household of no less than eleven siblings. Nadira and Farah regaled them with tales of their time as treasure hunters in Central Hyrule and surprised him with their knowledge of some of the hidden underground roads he previously believed were only known to himself. Comparing notes, he was pleased he could still able to point out more a few they hadn't known about. He was impressed by their lifestyle, even if he did disagree with the principles surrounding gathering priceless historical artefacts for profit rather than preservation. Daniyah reminded him of Sun in the way she talked about fighting and combat, and was willing to argue with him over the finer points of technique. She was amused by his barbaric but effective style and made comments like "Well, it's not what _I_ would do but if it works for you..."

              His new clothes didn't hurt. It was a novelty to be able to enjoy the desert in a way he hadn't been able to since he was a child. His tough skin wasn't made to burn and the elixirs did wonders to prevent heat stroke. The amber elixir made his eyes water, but felt like a fire in his core, keeping him pleasantly warm at night when they slept under the stars in the lee of majestic dunes.

              He had wanted to hide when they reached the bazaar at the oasis, but the others wouldn't let him. If he hid, they reasoned, it would look like he was up to no good. He had the right to request an appeal against his exile, and after everything he had done, they were sure his sisters would be sympathetic. They had taken to calling him _vosha,_ a far more elegant term than what Daniyah had attempted several nights ago. Despite their optimism, the bazaar guards did attempt to arrest him. With some impassioned argument from Daniyah, they agreed to let him keep his freedom, though they promised to keep a close eye on him. This left him tense and self-conscious. He kept his head down and tried not to draw attention to himself. The merchants were nice enough. Some of them had directly benefited from shipments he had made possible, and he and others enjoyed friendly smiles and discounted prices.

              Then it was time to move on. For the last stretch of the journey, he was quiet and withdrawn once more. He was sure they wouldn't be able to talk him out of being captured. He wondered if there was a jail in Gerudo Town and if it counted as part of the town proper, subject to the ban on voe. He didn't actually know the punishment for defying his banishment.

              All too soon, they found themselves at the northern gates of the town. He had suggested they go ahead of him in order to declare their intentions, but again, they insisted that he walk with them. He struggled against his nerves as they approached the guards, who gripped their weapons, unsure how to handle this situation.

              He took a deep breath. "I have come to speak to the Chief."

              “Where did you get the gall to come here?" one of the guards asked, her voice low and muffled by her veil. "You're exiled."

              "In case you didn't realise what that meant," her fellow said, stepped forward, "there is no coming back. We'll have to arrest you."

              "Na'ima, I vouch for him. Let us speak to Chief Riju." This was Daniyah. Na'ima paused.

              "Dani..." the first guard sighed. "Don't make this awkward. He's breaking the law."

              "Laws can sometimes be broken for a good reason. Are we not breaking the law of Hyrule when we circumvent the blockade at the pass? Or when we deal with the Rito? He breaks the law to serve us, and we have a report to give to Riju."

              The others remained silent as the guards digested this.

              "Let me go in," Daniyah continued. "I have a report to give her anyway. I can tell her he's outside and if she gives the order to arrest him, you can take it from there."

              This seemed to appease them. Indeed, they seemed almost relieved to not have to arrest him outright.

              Trying to stay in good spirits, Ganondorf and the others took seats against the outside wall, within sight of the guards. They would treat him fairly, he told himself. He was far better in their hands than in the Hylians'. He had thought his presence would incite rage, but it seemed as if the guards were confused by him. Untangling his difficult status seemed like something that they would rather not have to deal with. Farah and Nadira tried to keep up a conversation but they fell silent before long, waiting as the sun sank into the horizon.

              Daniyah took a long time, and when they finally called him back to the gate, he was stiff from having been still for so long. She was there, standing a little behind Chief Riju, who, to his relief and apprehension, had come to greet them personally. Farah, Nadira and Ghana lowered themselves to their knees out of respect, and he did the same, eyes on the sand. His heart was beating hard.

              "Ganondorf," she said, much like the last time they had met.

              "Chief."

              "Get up. I've been told that you have something for me."

              He stood. Farah came up behind him and handed him her pack, which contained the rupees, the journals and everything else. "No doubt Daniyah's already explained to you how we came across these," he said. "I have come to personally hand them over to you, to explain what I have discovered from them, to warn you about a Yiga plot that is going on as we speak on the Great Plateau and..." he paused, gathering his nerve; "to request that you lift my banishment."

              "You risked a lot coming here," she said. She regarded him with sadness. "I would be lying if I said I was happy to see you. When we first met, despite all the warnings from my advisors and my own judgement, I decided to trust you. I took you to Hyrule Castle as a show of that trust, and I was sorely punished for it. Stand in my place and try to imagine the difficult position you put me in. I did the only thing that made sense. By casting you out, I thought that I should wash my hands of your influence and the trouble you bring."

              "I didn't want this," he said.

              "I know. It can be difficult to distinguish between the darkness someone carries in their heart, and the darkness that snaps at their heels. In reality, the cost is the same."

              "Allow me then to fulfil my duty to my people by bringing you this warning. I will depart immediately." Her softness surprised him. He expected more of the hard steel he saw before. Her appeal to empathy might have angered him, but he had seen first-hand the consequences of his existence on too many of his people.

              "So, it's you who's been ferrying our people back and forth? And you who organised the attack on the Yiga hideout?"

              He nodded.

              "Ganondorf, do you know why voe are not allowed inside these walls?" She asked, placing her palm on the sandstone.

              He looked at her, confused. The question took him by surprise. In truth, he had never really thought about it. It had always seemed obvious to him. "To control the extent of outside influence," he said. "This is a place of sanctuary for the Gerudo and remains untouched by the rest of Hyrule."

              "I have been given more cause to ask that question than my mothers and grandmothers before me. I am of an age now when most of us leave home and travel to expand our horizons, meet men and eventually form families. I'm not an exception to this." She stopped, frowning, as if trying to find the right words. "Your mother was only a few years older than me when she had you."

              He stiffened and she gave him a gentle smile.

              "Yes, I looked into it. Out of curiosity more than anything. There are still people here that remember her. We don't forget our sisters, even if they're gone. I couldn't help but put myself in her place. What if I had a child I couldn't take home? What if, by law of the land, I had to effectively choose between my people and my son? She had hundreds of sisters. Single mothers have nothing to fear behind these walls, for, as a point of pride, we do not abandon our family. Yet both of you were more completely alone than I can imagine. So, I ask you again, why are voe forbidden from entering the town?"

              He found he couldn't speak. Part of him was angry at her. She had no right to invoke his past, to invade his privacy, let alone bring it out into the light of day for everyone to see. He was also unsettled. Calling his exclusion an injustice had been so far out of his reach, that until she gave it voice, he had not realised there had been a wound inside him, never once uncovered. It had never occurred to him to question why. It just _was._ He felt his heart quicken.

              When it became apparent he would not answer, Riju spoke again. "It is so that any Gerudo, no matter how long they have been away, or how far they have travelled, always have a home to return to. This is a place where we can be true to ourselves, where our children can grow up immersed in their culture, so that they can know who they are before they inevitably depart. It is so that our way of life can be chosen by us and not by outside influence. And what is more important to that, being Gerudo, or being a vai?"

              There was a heavy, viscous silence. The guards were staring at her, wide eyed and incredulous. The implications of the question were not lost on him and he waited, not daring to speak and unable to believe he was understanding her correctly.

              "I don't think that question can be dignified by argument any longer. You are your mother's son, the son of a Gerudo. _Our_ son. We should have been there for her, and for you. Please accept my apologies that it has taken us this long to realise this. It is inappropriate for me to come to the gate to speak with you. Come to my palace. We can discuss whatever it is you need to tell me there and depending on that, we can revisit your banishment."

              He didn't have to look around him to know that the company was staggered by her words. Riju turned and walked back into town, gesturing for him to follow her. No one moved. Finally, the nameless guard spoke.

              "What about his crime? Should we not arrest him for defying your decree?"

              Riju stopped and turned back, trying to hide her impatience. "Indeed Gloria, but we're not barbarians. I denied him the right to speak for himself before, and that was wrong. I think it's only fair that I allow him to speak now, and make a decision from there. I am entitled to reverse my own words."

              Gloria accepted this uneasily, her eyes on Ganondorf.

              Na'ima was not satisfied. "It's a nice sentiment Chief. But we can't let him in. He's _not_ one of us."

              As much as he was trying to remain neutral, her words cut and his heart sank. Of course it wasn't going to be so simple.

              Riju stared at her, her annoyance evident on her face. "I am not going to tolerate my guards speaking out of turn. I did not ask for your approval." She must have realised how hard her tone was because she sighed and collected herself before she continued. "After everything he has done, do you think it would be fair for me to treat him like a foreigner? He is different to you in only one aspect. Cut him open and he bleeds the same blood. Deny his identity and you deny your own. Let him pass or put down your weapon and go home."

              Na'ima stood stock still, caught between her belief and her integrity, and for a moment, Ganondorf felt sorry for her. He was watching Riju, feeling a bittersweet ache in his chest. He was reminded of how she had defended him in front of Zelda all those years ago and he struggled to control his emotions.

              "I'm not letting him buy a house," Riju said softly. "At my convenience, he may enter. He may not stay."

              At this, Na'ima relented, lowering her spear and stepping back, her head low, her shoulders slack.

              "Does anyone else have anything to say?"

              No one spoke.

              "Now, for Din's sake, let us go inside. Night is falling, and it's getting cold," she laughed, breaking the tension, before heading in the direction of the palace.

              Despite everything, he hesitated. The others filtered past until Farah was the only one standing beside him. She touched his elbow. "Come on, vosha. Don't keep the Chief waiting."

              He nodded, took a breath and followed her under the great smooth archway lined with colourful banners. He couldn't tell her he had been here before, that he already knew his way around, but he didn't need to fake his apprehension. He waved goodbye to the others as they left the main square on their own business. Riju was already climbing the steps ahead of him, and he felt oddly exposed walking past the quiet stalls and entranceways. Thankfully, everyone was packing up and returning home at this time of night, but he was still noticed. Some, glancing at him and realising who he was, seemed to be making a conscious effort not to look at him. Others, particular the older ones, stared openly. While the buildings were familiar, the hush was unsettling. Whispers followed him like ghosts.

              His instinctive response, even after all this time, was the desire to cover his face. Instead, he walked as naturally as he could, eyes forward, trying to ignore the eyes of the royal guards and the townswomen burning into him. It was a relief to enter into the relative privacy of the palace, but even then, he was surrounded by armoured women, though they were a little more disciplined, marked by their ability to _avoid_ looking at him. He couldn't decide if it made him feel better or worse.

              Instead of taking her seat on the throne, Riju led him through to a small meeting room separated from the main chamber by an archway and screened by a sheer silk curtain. Here they were able to sit at a table and speak without being disturbed. One of the guards attempted to follow them inside but Riju dismissed her and he felt a wave of gratitude. It was comforting to know that she didn't feel the need to be protected from him.

              "So, what do you need to warn me about?"

              He still had the pack with everything in it. He lifted it onto the table and began emptying it, laying out the books, the maps and papers in bound stacks. "The Yiga have an artefact in their possession," he said. "I think it's a helm of some kind." He went on, speaking at length, showing her the pages of the logbooks and pointing out the cross-references he had picked up on. When he finished, she had him gather everything up and took the bag outside. He heard her instruct one of her servants to find a translator, emphasising the importance of the job and of discretion. She returned to him and took a seat, considering.

              "This is bigger than the Gerudo," she said eventually.

              "Do you think Queen Zelda knows?"

              "About the Yiga?"

              "About any of it. Does she know about the corruption going on at the pass? Are there more examples of such throughout Hyrule?"

              "I do not know..." she admitted.

              "Are you not corresponding with her?"

              A shadow passed over her face and she looked away from him. "Yes, many times over many months. I have been answered with nothing but silence." There was a dark bitterness in her voice.

              "I know I haven't been here very long," he said. "I regret not being here to help my people. From what I have seen, things have been slipping from bad to worse for years now, and you have been struggling to keep this nation alive and at peace. I remember our meeting at Hyrule Castle when she was still princess. I don't think she was pleased to see me, but it seemed clear to me that whatever resentment she displayed came from a place of love. She was _protective_ of you. Even when you disagreed, she was eager to make amends and part on good terms. She was wise enough to put her pride behind her for the sake of your friendship. What could have changed?"

              "I don't _know_ ," she snapped. "I've been asking myself that for _years."_

"Your messages must have been lost, intercepted. I do not believe that Zelda would ignore a friend in need like this, especially if she could help."

              "What do you know about it?" Riju's smile was hollow, mirthless. "You've never known her like I did. Three years is a long time. People change, and not always for the better. Is it so impossible that she has become cold? That she no longer considers anyone's thoughts and feelings equal to her own? Hyrule has never cared for Gerudo. She is simply following in the footsteps of her forefathers."

              "That's not true," he said gently. "I might not know her, but I know the stories. I will allow that they may be altered in the retelling, but she stood with Lady Urbosa against Calamity Ganon. Even in the short time I spent with you when I first came back to Gerudo, she wrote to you weekly. If she has changed as you say, then something must have gone terribly wrong. Do we not lash out at the ones we love out of fear and foolishness?" He leaned forward. "Ask yourself, what is she afraid of?"

              Riju looked at him, and he could see the answer in her eyes. Zelda had been afraid of _him_. Even all those years ago when she sat across the table from him and discussed the cost of rice, he had seen it in the way she had refused to meet his eyes, how she had sat closer to Riju, touched her hand as if to say _I will protect you from him._ He suddenly felt painfully conscious of his own body, his broad shoulders, his hard face, as well as his name, his voice. Everything about him spoke violence. The room he was in was delicate, feminine, unwelcoming to his nature. Even when he spoke to his Chief, it was like speaking another language, a language of subtlety and calm hypotheticals, negotiation and diplomacy. He was aware that, in times gone by, his status would grant him automatic power. Men before him had been made Chief by right of birth, but in this day and age, when women had undeniably forged a better life for his people, he found himself carefully treading around their legacy, deferring to a woman more than a decade younger than him, all to minimise the perceived threat he posed her, and everyone else.

              In ten thousand years, the Gerudo had left behind their savage past, and with that, whatever place he had among them. This was not his world. It was theirs.

              "Once again, you ask me to face an uncomfortable choice," Riju said, finally.

              "Comfort is not the luxury of leaders," he said.

              She gave him her first genuine smile, tired though it was. "Alright. I will try one last time. I will compose a message and put it in the hands of one my own to give directly to her, appealing for her aid, even if it does wound my pride to do so. In order to avoid a war on two fronts, we must make her aware of the true enemy. Go and rest now. You have a long journey ahead of you."

              "You're sending me?"

              "Of course. You are the cause of all this. Indirectly, granted, but sending anyone else risks failing to address the real issue. By representing me and delivering a message of peace and friendship, it may force her to confront what she is really afraid of. If she cannot accept the message from you, then she will not accept the friendship of the Gerudo."

              It did place him conveniently far from the desert, he thought, though he didn't say this aloud. Despite her confidence, he knew she might be reluctant to send anyone else in case they were waylaid. He had proven himself capable of handling himself against the Yiga, it was true, but it felt more like a dismissal than a mission. He could hardly refuse her, not after she had invited him into the town.

              "I will have Romah set you up with your own room at the hotel. You will report here in the morning and I'll give you the letter as well as identification papers and everything else you'll need. You'll be accompanied by a small contingent of warriors to ensure your success."

              "Might I request specific individuals."

              "If they consent. Who did you have in mind?"

              He listed off all those who had travelled with him so far. Riju considered this. "They're not all warriors."

              "They are capable. Especially Daniyah."

              "Yes but... I like her." She smiled wearily. "I was looking forward to having her back. No matter. I'll consider your request and let you know if they agree. Is there anything else?"

              He stood, but hesitated, unsure how to make this request without appearing rude or suspicious.

              "What is it?"

              "Chief, please, don't continue to investigate me. I appreciate your sentiment, but I don't need your empathy, or your pity. I don't enjoy having my past brought up. Already too many people know too much about me for comfort. If you really must know something, ask me directly. Otherwise, it's for me to carry alone."

              She flushed, her graceful brow furrowed in a defensive frown. This only lasted a brief moment, before she regained her composure and nodded stiffly. "I promise I will stop asking around. However, you forfeit your right to secrecy if you break any more of my laws. Fail me in this task, or turn against me, and I will do everything I can to stop you, even if that means scouring Hyrule for every footprint you left behind. Understood?"

              He bowed.

              "Good. I am tired. You are dismissed."

              Her parting words left him confused and restless. It was difficult to judge the nature of their relationship. Was he really being given a chance to redeem himself or was she making a lackey out of him, taking advantage of his disposability? It was better than being arrested, he reasoned.

              If he remembered correctly, the hotel was on the west side of the town. When he had been a child, Gerudo Town had been a maze of alleyways, thoroughfares and courtyards to get lost in. While not all that much had changed, everything felt inevitably smaller, more structured. He felt himself lingering, caught in a moment of nostalgia; a long-forgotten smell or voice or presence in the air that was part the breathing of the town and part his own imagination finding memories when there were none.

              He became aware that someone was watching him. His feet had carried him too far, and when he realised where he was, he turned on his heel, feeling suddenly cold, but it was too late. Someone had already seen him, and to his horror, he recognised her. He had hoped and dreaded that something like this would happen. Now that he was here, all he wanted was to disappear.

              "Ganondorf. I never thought I'd see you here again."

              "Lady Yshri," he murmured, his heart beating hard.

              "Are you lost?" Her voice was cold. It was clear that he was unwelcome.

              "I have a room at the hotel."

              She pointed south. "Hotel Oasis is that way."

              He lingered, mouth dry. "I'm sorry to intrude."

              "You knew what you were doing," she said, and he cringed, feeling the heat rise in his face. "She's not here. No, I'm not going to tell you where she is."

              Pained, he tried again. "If there's anything I can do for you or Su-"

              "Don't." Yshri's words were like a blow. "Don't say her name."

              He bowed his head, heart heavy, and walked past her in the direction she had pointed. Unable to stop himself, he turned. She was still standing in her doorway, illuminated by the lamplight inside. She must have just been returning home from her shift, pure misfortune forcing them to be in the same place at the same time. "Is she... At least tell me that she's safe."

              "She's safe. And happy without you."

              "I'm glad."

              "I don't care."

              He winced. He could not blame her for her anger. He shouldn't have come here, should have been more careful to avoid this part of town. He thought better of trying to apologise again. More words would only bring more pain. He left, feeling her eyes on his back, looking forward to when he could shut himself up his room and be alone again.

              All his life, he had wanted to return to Gerudo Town, had longed to visit Sun openly in her home instead of skulking about the barrens like a criminal. His mother had been happiest here, and he had discovered a bright social side of her that died in the snow. The smells and the food and the calling of merchants, the thick, musical accents, the sounds of sitar strings, these were the elements of his happiest memories.

              Now he was finally here, he longed to leave.

 


	7. Snake-Eater

              The rest of his night was uneventful. Riju had apparently arranged for him to be brought breakfast, and he thanked Romah, the owner of the hotel, with a carefully composed face, ignoring her curious stare. He was determined to act as if he belonged here, as if it were no remarkable thing. Even so, it was difficult for him to keep the stiffness out of his gait as he made his way to the palace.

              Riju greeted him, looking as tired as she had been when he left her, and he wondered if she had gotten any sleep at all. She was sitting on her throne, legs tucked up under her, a long peacock quill in her hand, parchment curling over her knees. "Buliara, give Ganondorf the letter," she said, without looking up.

              He was handed a scroll encased in a tube by Riju's personal body guard, who regarded him with intense scrutiny, clearly unhappy that he was permitted to set foot inside the palace. Riju didn't seem to notice.

              "Ganondorf, when were you born?"

              "Why?"

              She looked up, annoyed. "I could just find out you know, but you asked me to come to you first if I needed to know something. I'm writing out your identification papers. It's just standard information that they took for the census, but you weren't around for that and we don't have an official from the Church of Hylia, I'm getting it done now." She waited for his response.

              He flushed, inhaling through clenched teeth. "I don't know."

              "What do you mean you don't know?"

              "I didn't celebrate my birthday growing up."

              "How old are you?"

              "Thirty-one. I was born in winter, I think."

              "Good enough," she muttered, making a mark on the parchment. "Father?"

              He bristled and she raised her eyebrows. It seemed she knew better than to press that line of questioning, because she made a note on the parchment, mouthing the word _unknown_ as she wrote.

              "Well, that should do. What really matters is that it has our signatures, and that you have a letter granting you passage."

              Buliara handed him an envelope this time, marked with Riju's seal. Riju blew on the paper she had been writing on before folding it up and offering it to him. He took it, unfolded it and perused it with interest.

              _Ganondorf of the Gerudo, born to Alma Majere, father unknown, in the winter of the Year of the Boar._ It was a collection of information; family history, wealth, residence, most of which had been marked as _unknown_. There was a symbol before his name that he didn't recognise. He pointed it out to Riju, asking; "what is this?"

              "Oh, it stands for BCE. Hylian's mark their calendars by Calamities end. All citizens who were alive before then are marked thus." She smiled at his irritation. "Don't be upset about it. It actually entitles you to certain privileges. Queen Zelda made it so that those who survived the Calamity and maintained the land while Ganon reined would be justly rewarded. At least, that is the idea." She offered him the quill. He took it and signed where she indicated, feeling strange.

              "Who needs to know any of this?" He asked.

              "It's just the way things are done now. I don't think it's such a bad idea. Before the census I had no idea how many Gerudo actually lived here or anywhere else. It's useful when we're trying to decide whether or not to expand the town, or what kind of recruitment numbers I could expect if I wanted to form a proper army."

              "Yes, I can imagine it would be very useful if you ever needed to pressgang potential soldiers," he muttered. Riju glared at him, but he didn't retract his comment. It was disconcerting, going from completely unknown to officially recorded. All his life he had lived in near absolute secrecy, the number of people knowing of his existence counted on one hand.

              She passed him his identification papers. "You'll have happy to know that the party you requested have all consented to come with you. They're waiting for you in the training courtyard along with all the supplies you'll need and payment."

              "Payment?"

              "You're acting as my courier. They are your guards. That's paid work. Anyway, you'll need money to pay for food and lodging on the road."

              He hadn't considered that. In fact, he was impressed with the speed and efficiency with which she had organised all of this. "Have we made any headway with the translation of the Yiga documents?"

              "Not yet. I will send a Rito if we discover anything useful to you. Is that everything."

              "I believe so."

              "I expect you to depart in a few hours." She paused, slipping off her throne so that she could stand in front of him. She was still shorter than he was, but he was reminded again of how much she had changed in three years. "It would be remiss of me if I didn't recognise the service you have done for us," she said. "By neutralising the threat in the Canyon Pass, you have significantly weakened the Yiga Clan's grip on the desert. If you succeed in delivering this message and facilitate in renewing the alliance between Hyrule and Gerudo, then I will see to it that you have a home here when you return."

              He was able to return her smile this time, allowing himself a small slither of hope, the possibility that his future wouldn't be so empty. He couldn't believe that completing this task would mean the beginning of a peaceful life, but that perhaps he might end up a little better off than when he started.

              Dismissed, he made his way to the sunlit training courtyard. Nardira, Farah, Daniyah and Ghana were all waiting for him, outfitted in comfortable travel gear and lounging against the far wall, talking amongst themselves. When he came up to him, they stood and Daniyah came up to greet him.

              "So I'm assuming that your meeting with the Chief went well. They didn't throw you out after all."

              He chuckled, the sound unnatural to his own ears. He had not expected them all to be willing to leave again after only just arriving, and he was deeply relieved that they had agreed to come. The thought of yet more awkward exchanges and learning the quirks and identities of a whole new group of people seemed like an insurmountable task. These were people who had come to him, who had chosen to fight alongside him against the Yiga, who had been willing to risk their lives to do so. If this had not been enough to foster comradery, in the absence of any established etiquette, they had reverted to treating him like they would treat anyone else. He wouldn't have been able to tolerate trying to work with a fresh set of strangers who struggled to talk to him, didn't know what to call him or how to act around him.

              "Shall we head off?" Nadira asked, shouldering her pack. "Unless there's anything we need to pick up before we go."

              He felt a strange kind of energy, and for a moment, he assumed he was anxious again, but it wasn't nervousness that caused a secretive half smile to pull at his lips. It took him a moment to recognise that he was excited to b going, looking forward to the trip. It was as if there had been metal bands wrapped around his chest for so long, and for the first time he felt free to breathe easy, to feel optimistic about their chances of success. He was not running from a shadow, he wasn't hiding from anyone, and he wasn't _alone_. He had the blessing of his Chief, comrades he could rely on and possibly a place to return to when it was over. He hadn't had this much even three years ago when he first tried to establish himself.

              "Yes. I'm ready."

             

              xxx

 

              Riju had warned them against taking unofficial channels into Hyrule. He was on a diplomatic mission, and it would not do to be caught sneaking around. Their passage had to be marked and recorded. So it was that they found themselves at the blockade. This time, he was able to produce papers for the captain and he was pleased to see that she looked haggard. It had been her who had accepted the bribes from the Yiga and he imagined that her job had become a lot more demanding in their absence, what with having to revert back to the lawful running of things without the incentive, or the funds, to cut corners. She should look tired, he thought. It meant she was doing her job.

              "Did you get lost on the way to the stable?" she muttered dryly when she saw him again and examined Riju's letter relaying his right to cross the bridge.

              "I took a detour," he said, stony faced. Nadira giggled and Farah elbowed her in the ribs. The captain gave him an irritated look, which he answered with a polite smile. Sighing, she returned the letter and waved them through.

              They crossed the bridge and with that they were heading northeast through Central Hyrule. Much had changed. Fellow travellers were no longer few and far between. The further they made it out of Gerudo, the more people they saw. Roads that were once dirt tracks were now paved. Bridges that had been ruins the last time he saw them had been restored. He misjudged their location more than once because new villages had been erected where there had been only hollow shells of buildings. As was to be expected, they received suspicious looks from those they passed, but after a while, they stopped noticing. It was not unusual for innkeepers to ask them one or two more questions than was necessary, but in the end, their money was accepted as well as anyone else’s, and they travelled in what he thought of as considerable comfort.

              His companions were accustomed to him by now and had no issues following his instructions. Soon, it felt natural to speak to them like friends. In particular, he found himself spending more and more time with Farah. She was the softer of the two sisters, a counter to Nadira's bubbly, girlish energy. Unlike Nadira, she seemed comfortable with long silences and he appreciated that about her. Daniyah had progressed from debating with him over proper form to teaching the group general fighting techniques, which he watched without taking part. At first, she was annoyed - "how can you maintain your skill if you don't practise?" - but soon gave up coaxing him to join in. Ghana surprised them all by spending a large portion of her pay on a harp like instrument, bought from a travelling merchant. When questioned, she winked and said mysteriously; "I'm sure it'll come in handy..." Sure enough, when they came to an inn that refused to give them rooms indoors, she sat by the doorway and played a sweet little melody, singing in a deep, lilting tone as she plucked the strings. Believing that she was doing this for their benefit, to soften the discomfort of having to sleep outdoors, the others listened with delighted astonishment. Her plan became apparent when other travellers paused and villagers, hearing the music, came to investigate. Enchanted by her song, those who came to find its source tried to leave rupees at her feet, but she picked them up and handed them back, asking them to buy her and her comrades drinks instead. The innkeeper made such good business that he begrudgingly offered them board shortly after midnight.

              They didn't have the same success at the next inn.

 

              xxx

 

              The closer they got to Hyrule Castle, the more hostile the Hylians seemed to become. Puzzled expressions turned to scowls, and for the first time since the blockade, they were stopped by soldiers on the road, asking to see their papers. After a long and tense minute, they were asked to present their bags for searching. Trying to keep the situation from escalating, Ganondorf give the rest of them a look and handed over his bag first for inspection. After explaining their purpose and enduring their searches and questions, they were finally free to continue on. He didn't fail to notice one of the soldiers giving orders to another, who trotted past them on a swift courier’s horse.

              "How much do you want to bet," he murmured to Daniyah, who was closest to him, "that he's been sent to prepare a little welcome for us at the castle?" His voice was level, unconcerned, but she could help but feel rising apprehension in her gut, which she did her best to ignore.

              After trying to resupply at a place called Mabe Village and suffering dirty looks and whispers, they unanimously agreed not to stay the night there. They had been refused service in a way that firmly told them they were not trusted. Even as they made to leave, residents watched them go with venomous expressions. They were perhaps two days travel from Hyrule Castle.

              Finding a peaceful copse of trees, they made camp. Ghana played for them to keep them in good spirits while a fire was raised and, looking sheepish, Ganondorf demonstrated some of the tricks he could do with the flames, making it seem like figures sparring with shapeless monsters. Daniyah watched with a slight smile on her face. It was impressive, but she could tell his heart wasn't in it. As they got closer to the end of their journey, she noticed his moral flagging. He spoke less, withdrawing into himself. The way the Hylian villagers of Mabe had reacted to them seemed to have bothered him the most. Catching his eye, she tilted her head, giving him a look that asked; _something wrong?_

They were sitting a little apart from the others, and could speak in whispers without being heard. Even so, he hesitated, weary eyes on the fire. She had never seen eyes like his, like warm liquid gold, in any other Gerudo. Was it something unique to him? Eventually, he leaned towards her and admitted; "it's... difficult not to take it personally when we face prejudice like that. I wonder if you would have fared better without me. Perhaps I should..."

              She interrupted him, shaking her head. "No. We stick together. You're one of us now. If they're the kind of people that would deny you a room then we don't want to give them business. I won't pretend that your name has nothing to do with it, but if they reject one of us, they reject all of us."

              This earned her a sidelong gaze that she couldn't quite interpret. Did she offend him when she spoke like this? He was frowning as if she had said something foolish, but there was a curiosity in the way his eyes scanned her face, as if searching for inconsistency, dishonesty. She felt herself flush. She knew so little about him. She had listened to the hushed speculations the others took part in when he wasn't around, though she didn't contribute. It felt wrong to compare notes, but she couldn't help paying attention. They didn't come up with much she couldn't have guessed herself and when one of them was ever brave enough to ask him a personal question, he deflected it, giving broad answers that didn't satisfy, but made it awkward to ask again. It didn't even seem like he was lying to them, or hiding something, simply that he had been alone for so long that he was used to keeping information close and guarded. She knew that a good portion of his life must have been spent in hiding, where his survival depended on not leaving a trace. It must be difficult, she thought, for him to let go of old habits.

              Regardless, he seemed soothed by her conviction, and turned back to the fire, leaving her unsettled. He had taken to integrating with them so well that it was easy to forget how different he was. It made her sad and oddly frightened to think of how he must have grown up isolated. It revealed itself in small ways. He spoke their language without an accent, sometimes using strange antiquated turns of phrase, as if he had learned from old books. He seemed to hate raising his sword, but he was undeniably capable fighter. And then there was the magic. She had known fortune tellers and magicians among her people, mostly performers, but she had never seen someone so powerfully magical, like something out of an ancient story. How had he learned? And from whom?

              "We should sleep," he sighed, getting up to smother the fire. It was a warm enough summers night that they didn't need it, but she felt disconcerted without the light. Even though Daniyah had lived before Calamity's End, it had been a long time since she had felt the need to set a watch. Now, she considered suggesting it. Perhaps it was the way the Hylian villagers had looked at them, or the way that the night felt unnaturally dark even though it was still relatively early. She chalked it up to paranoia and found a flat piece of ground to lay out her bedroll.

              In the absence of the fire, the shadows pooled and settled, and her eyes adjusted. She could actually see better without it, better discern the shapes of the countryside. They were close to farmland. This was the second time that she had been outside her homeland, and things had changed dramatically. The Hylians had cultivated and tamed much of what used to be endless grassland. It had its own ordered kind of beauty, she thought. Scarecrows stood sentry over the ploughed squares of land. Funny little things. Farah had explained that they were for deterring birds from eating the seeds while they rooted. She counted the ones she could see, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. Seven... That seemed like too many to her, but what did she know about farming?

              One of them moved.

              She sat bolt upright. They were gathering together, forming a group. Not scarecrows. People.

              "Hey," she hissed. Automatically she went for her pack, unsheathing her scimitar and picking up her shield, going to stand next to Ghana, who was snoring. She nudged her with her toe. "Get up. I see people."

              Ghana rolled over and peered into the darkness. The figures didn't seem to be making any moves to hide themselves. Eyes going wide, she got up and started shaking the others awake. Daniyah swore under her breath, trying to keep calm. It didn't feel right. She wasn't afraid of bandits, but there was something wrong about the way they blatantly strode forward in a gang, not feeling the need for stealth or caution.

              She felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped. Ganondorf was behind her. "Put away your weapon," he whispered. "I don't doubt your instincts. They are here to cause trouble, but if we can settle this with words, we will. We don't want to make it seem like we want to fight."

              Against her better judgement, she took a breath and laid down her scimitar and shield, feeling naked without them. She didn't like the way she couldn't see the Hylian's eyes in the dark. Ganondorf stepped past her, addressing the leader.

              "To what do we owe the pleasure?" he called.

              "I thought we made it clear that your kind weren't welcome here," one of them growled. Now that they were close, she could see they were young, wiry, armed with short swords and daggers. She watched Ganondorf, not sure how far she could trust this attempt at pacifism.

              "We're nowhere near your village," he said, taking a step forward. "We're not here to cause trouble. We'll be moving on in the morning."

              "Oh, we're _glad_ you're here," another sneered, his teeth and sword catching the light of the moon. "Gives us a rare opportunity."

              She didn't like the way she could hear his smile in his voice, and Ganondorf seemed to hear it too, for he stood a little straighter, his hand inching towards his own sword. "We don't want to fight you."

              "Don't you think it would be fun?" the first one asked. "I miss skirmishing in the wilds, don't you?"

              "But what will happen if someone finds their corpses in the morning?" a third piped up in mock concern.

              "Well, it'll have to be reported, won't it? It'll get back to their bitch chief."

              Daniyah could hear a low hiss behind her as Nadira drew her sword.

              The Hylian continued. "There'd be repercussions, retaliation... I mean, this isn't just any Gerudo gypsy. This is the Great Ganondorf. They say he's an evil sorcerer. They say he was the Chief's pet before he disappeared. She's be _awfully_ upset if we killed her boyfriend. It could start _war._ "

              "And then the Queen will _pay_ us to kill you snake-eaters. We could get medals."

              "Enough!" Ganondorf roared. "Back off now. Go home. You will find no fight here."

              "You don't need to fight for us to kill you," the leader said. "It would just make it more interesting."

              When Ganondorf next spoke, it was to his companions. "Don't kill them if you can help it," he said in Gerudo, drawing his sword. "What they say is just as true for us as it is for them. Try to scare them off."

              "We can't let them get away," Daniyah breathed, taking comfort in the heavy weight of her shield. They couldn't be any more than peasants and farmers, hardly a threat to them, but she still felt simmering rage. "If we injure one of them, they'll have something to report to their soldiers."

              He swore. "It won't matter when we complete our mission. Don't kill them."

              "If one of them dies," Farah said darkly. "They all have to die."

              "I know..." he said.

              "Ugh, Goddess, their tongue grates my ears," one of the Hylian's snorted. "Let's end them."

              The Hylian band advanced, and they stood their ground. Their opponents were smart enough not to focus on Ganondorf, but spread out, watching all of them. She was disconcerted to see their cautious approach, a lot more disciplined than she would have expected from disgruntled farmers. Frowning, she marked one who was watching her hungrily, keeping her shield raised between the two of them. She hoped she had trained the others well enough, for she couldn't worry about them and protect herself at the same time.

              She remained still as he stepped forward, sword pointed at her face. She held. There was no sound but the beating of her own heart.

              The Hylian darted forward, tense like a coiled spring, but his blow glanced off her scimitar and he laughed as she lifted her shield defensively, as if this was a friendly spar that she was taking too seriously. Then his eyes narrowed and he attacked, this time with lethal intent. She had not been foolish enough to relax or underestimate him, and it soon became apparent that these were either soldiers or mercenaries. She led with her shield, batting his strikes aside and pushing him back, slamming it into his face hard enough to give him an impressively bloody nose. He spat blood, grinning, seeming to enjoy himself. She could hear the sounds of fighting around her as the others joined the fray, but it all merged together into a meaningless cacophony.

              "Come on lady," her opponent smirked. "You can hit harder than that..."

              He _knew._ He knew if she killed him, they'd get what they wanted, and he was insane enough to provoke her for his twisted cause. She had to incapacitate him. Taking deliberate strides forward, she shoved him away from her and against a tree, pinning his sword arm against his chest with her shield, her blade resting on the rim against his throat. She could keep him like this indefinitely, but her back was exposed, so she reversed the grip on her scimitar and drove the pommel into his face repeatedly, hearing a sick cracking sound as she shattered his already broken nose. Combined with this, she pressed forward, putting her weight behind her shield so that he struggled to breathe. It wasn't long before he slumped, unconscious and she let him drop to the ground.

              She heard a shout behind her and wheeled around.

              Farah was engaged with one of them and losing ground, shifting back to avoid his lightning fast slashes and thrusts. He was armed with a curved dagger. She had a spear, but he had gotten too close for her to effectively use her weapon. Her face was twisted with fear and her knuckles were already bloody from the little nicks he had managed to deal her. Farah's back hit a tree and Daniyah's heart leapt into her throat. He was going to kill her.

              It happened in a flash of metal. Ghana, who had left another Hylian on his knees, clutching his bleeding face, had thrown her own knife at the one bearing down on Farah. Her aim was devastating, embedding itself with a dull thud in his temple. His body, caught in the momentum of the blow, was thrown to the side, instantly dead.

              "No!" Farah cried.

              Ghana, realising what she had done, froze. "I'm sorry," she moaned. "I had to!"

              All Daniyah felt was relief. "Ganondorf," she shouted. "We have to kill them!"

              She heard him curse.

              The rest of the fight was ugly. Three of the Hylian's had already been knocked out or injured badly enough that they couldn't crawl away, and killing them was an execution. The other three fled and had to be chased down and dispatched individually.

              Despite the savagery of the skirmish, it was over quickly. They gathered the bodies and laid them out. Everyone looked sick. Ghana stared at the corpses with hollow eyes before she opened her mouth as if to say something, only to shut it again and walk away without a word. No one stopped her. Daniyah just felt empty and tired. Ganondorf was the first to speak.

              "Nadira, there is a ranch nearby according to the map. Go and see if you can find some shovels. We'll need to bury them."

              "Can't you burn them?" Daniyah suggested, her voice coming out dry and brittle.

              "No. The fire would attract attention. The village would see the smoke and smell the burning corpses. We'll quietly bury them and move on as soon as possible." To Nadira he said; "go now. Don't let anyone see you."

              She hesitated. Farah touched her arm, leaning in to whisper something. This seemed to be enough for her, because she left to do as he said.

              "Farah, go find Ghana and bring her back. We need to take turns digging."

              It wasn't long before Nadira returned with three shovels. They were small, made for Hylian hands, but it was the best they could do. Digging the graves took all night. For what felt like an age, there was only the sounds of the breaking and shifting earth. She almost took pleasure in the way that her hands burned, her shoulders and back ached. It felt good compared to the searing pain in her chest. She dug with a vengeance as if the very ground had offended her.

              Ganondorf came close to her. "Dani, stop. Rest. I'll take over."

              She ignored him. He had never abbreviated her name like that, even though the others often did.

              He took hold of her arm, not ungently, and removed the shovel from her hands. She let him. She had finished this one. All that was left was to lower the body in and fill it up and he nodded for her to do this. In her arms, it looked like a child’s corpse. Her hands slipped and it landed at the bottom of the grave with a crunch that set her teeth on edge. He didn't react, but went to work filling it in. She watched him, her face neutral, but her insides churning.

              After a while, he broke the silence. The others paused, the sound of his voice somehow wrong in the night, like he had broken an unspoken taboo. "Say what you need to say, Dani."

              It came out before she realised it had been inside her the whole time. "What is the point!?" She exploded like a firework. "What is the point of trying to talk it out? Why are we even going to deliver this message to the Queen? You heard them! They were willing to die to start this war they want so much. Why are we even trying to make peace when all they want to do is kill us!?"

              He straightened up and sighed. There were two bodies that were yet to be buried, and he went to one of them, bending and patting it down, apparently searching for something. They had stopped digging to watching him, waiting for his response. When he hadn't found what he was looking for, he went to the second one, rooting through their pack.    

              "What are you -?"

              "If I'm not mistaken," he said dully, "I should find... here." He produced a slip of parchment, scanned it and then handed it to her. It contained a description of each of them and the words _half now, half later_ over an inverted sheikah eye. The symbol of the Yiga. She felt foolish. He threw a bag of rupees to her and she caught it, gazing at it as if she couldn't understand what she was looking at. "We might as well keep that," he said, and went back to digging.

              She sank to the ground, resting her back against a tree and trying to make sense of the confused storm of emotions inside her. Something caught the corner of her eyes and she turned her head. There was a shape in the trees, dark and impenetrable. It looked like...

              "Vosha," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Can you see that?"

              "See what?" He paused and turned to look in the direction she indicated, but there was nothing there. He waited for her to explain but she shook her head. She was exhausted, seeing things. Her eyes itched and it was like her body was weighed down with rocks. She closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to take her.

 

              xxx

 

              After the attack, he couldn't sleep. Once the graves had been dug and filled in, the tip of the sun was just breaking the horizon, and he knew they had to be on the road soon. He had finished the last one by himself, instructing the others to get at least a couple of hours sleep. There was still something he wanted to do before he woke them.

              The last thing that Daniyah had said before she fell asleep niggled at him. In truth, he had seen something earlier, a shadow on the branch of a tree in the distance, but he had been preoccupied with the fight. Had that been what she had spotted earlier? He went in that direction, searching his surroundings for some clue that someone had been there. There were no tracks, or evidence of a campfire, but he still felt uneasy. He patrolled the shady trees, wanting to make certain that no one was there.

              "Hello big fella. Up here."

              He started and twisted his head up to see who had spoken. A dark feathered Rito perched on a thick bow of a tree like a crow. His hand went to his sword on instinct, but the Rito raised his wings in a gesture of peace. "Whoa there, I'm just here to deliver a message."

              "You were watching us," he accused, glaring at him.

              "Yes... I saw. Don't worry, I also saw how you tried not to fight them. I'm your side. They were Yiga, weren't they? Rotten to the core."

              He nodded. "Who are you?"

              "Nuka," he said, his black bill clicking as he said his name. He slipped from the branch and landed gracefully on the ground, handing him a scroll tied with a silk ribbon. "This is for you. Chief Riju sends her regards and wishes you good fortune for the rest of your journey..." He paused. "You're going to see the Queen, aren't you?"

              Ganondorf didn't respond, but took the scroll.

              "Well," Nuka said offhandedly, "if you _were_ going to see the Queen, you'd be disappointed. She's not in Hyrule Castle."

              "How do you know that?" he asked, his suspicion growing.

              "I deliver all kinds of mail," Nuka declared proudly. "For all kinds of important people."

              "So you're a spy?" he snorted. "It's a little unworthy, betraying the location of the people you work for, don't you think?"

              "Normally, I'd agree with you, friend. But..." he faltered. "Her Majesty is not herself. She needs help. If you're that help, then I'd be doing her a good turn by showing you the way. She's in the dark forest around the Thyphlo Ruins. It's directly north of here, although I'd skirt around the Lost Woods if I were you."

              "How can I trust you?"

              "I delivered your mail safely, didn't I?"

              He didn't answer. Instead he broke the seal on the scroll and unfurled it, examining it. It was from Riju, he recognised her hand and signature. The message was short. He stared at the words, read and reread them. He must have frozen for some time because the Rito coughed awkwardly and he waved it away. "Go then. You've delivered your letter. Leave.

              Nuka's feathers puffed up, making him seem far larger than he was, and he clicked his beak in annoyance. Ganondorf, his mind still on the letter, realised what he was waiting for and paid him. Satisfied, the Rito took to the sky in a flurry of black down. He glanced back down at the parchment.

              _Ganondorf. I won't commit too much to writing. Translation was incorrect. Not a helm - a skull. Makeela Riju, Chief of the Gerudo._

He left to wake the others.

             

 


	8. Technology

              Sun had to admit the hollow shells of the guardians still put her on edge. Their heavy skeletons sagged, sinking into the green hillsides, to be eventually swallowed by the earth. When the wind blew, they creaked and shivered in a way that made her heart beat just a little bit harder. She had been reluctant to approach them at first, but when Link noticed this, he simply smiled at her and led her as far as she was willing to go before showing her what to do. There was a method to disembowelling the machines and once she saw that he was not afraid to get intimately close to them, it gave her the nerve to copy him, and soon she was happy to climb on top of them by herself and tear them up for parts.

              They were on one such scavenging expedition now. though it was turning out to be less work and more leisurely stroll. Most of the guardian corpses that still remained had already been emptied out or reclaimed by nature through, useful only as monuments of the Calamity. Even as husks she had known then to stir and waken when disturbed. That was years ago, when Calamity Ganon had been secure in Hyrule Castle, his will and Malice threaded through the land, giving these mechanical monstrosities unnatural life and longevity. Now, with whatever pure or corrupted energy they had gone, they rotted like living things, leaving their bones behind.

              The effect was accentuated by the landscape. In the shadow of Death Mountain, the world here was rocky, swathes of it sterilized by channels cut into the mountainside by lava rivers that had long since cooled. It wasn't unpleasant - the air was cool and temperate and there were patches of healthy living green to interrupt the grey and white - but the sunlight was occasionally dimmed by falling ash and tendrils of black cloud. It was easy to see how Death Mountain had gotten its name, but as Zelda had explained to her, the ash was rich and fertile, the very stone a nutritious source of food for the Gorons. The trees surrounding the ruins were ancient and thriving even after all these thousands of years. Along the main road that led up to the Thyphlo Ruins, there stood crumbling pillars and statues made by the ancient sheikah, or possibly some race of people before them.

              She heard a whistle some distance away and went in search of its source. A guardian was trapped in the shade of an outcrop, long dead. Creeping ivy had latched onto it and from the little scratchings and scampering she could hear; a family of mice had made it their nest. Two of its long, clawed legs were held fast in a deep fissure in the rock and deep ruts scarred the ground surrounding it. It must have slipped into the crag and scrabbled to escape, finally deactivating as rust and exposure ate away at it. Its shell had been opened up and she could see a hunched figure inside. Link was wrestling with something in the belly of the thing, and she could hear his muffled panting and grunts. If he could speak, she was sure he would be swearing.

              Ignoring the lingering sense of unease at being so close to it, she strode up and knocked on the massive hull. Link, startled, jerked upright and hit his head on an inner panel, letting out a hiss and causing her to giggle. He turned, regarding her with a reproachful expression.

              "I'm sorry," she said, hiding her lips with her hand.

              He eased himself out, pointing inside and making a series of gestures. She had been learning his sign language, but he moved quickly and often she struggled to follow his meaning.

              _I can't... stuck fast._

"You need me to pull something out?" she guessed.

              He nodded.

              Waving him out the way, she bent her head and crawled into the hole he had made in the shell. She was just about three feet taller than he was, and didn't share his narrow frame, so it was a struggle, but it only took her a moment to see what he was talking about; a delicate orb supported by bronze rings inscribed with sheikah symbols of power and efficiency. She had led with her left shoulder, a habit she had developed, but in order to prize the core from its hollow, she would need a far more dextrous instrument than her organic hand. Shifting, she reached in with her new right arm.

              The flesh ended several inches below her shoulder to be replaced with a metal limb that resembled the pauldron and gauntlet of ancient sheikah armour, held in place by a breastplate that left her other shoulder exposed. It was deceptively light and responded to the movements of her body and the will of her mind much like her old arm had, only it did not feel strain or weariness. Much like the machine she found herself in now, the plates that made up the forearm and shoulder were marked with magical symbols, channelling the mysterious energy that powered all sheikah devices. The hand was made of three long platinum talons and an opposing thumb, which she now used to grip the orb, and pull. She could see, but not feel, the cords that served as tendons grow taut as she applied pressure. It was unlikely that she would ever get used to seeing the inner workings of the arm exposed, but it was too useful to let it bother her overmuch.

              There was a groaning sound and the guardian shuddered, causing her heart to hammer as the seal holding the core began to give. All at once, it came loose, and she emerged, triumphant. She handed it to Link, who smiled his thanks and slipped it into the bag he had slung over his shoulder.

              "Are you done for today?" she asked. "I think that's the last of them. We've scoured all the nearby spots. This must be the only one left that we haven't already discovered."

              Link nodded. The core had been an impossible find and though it was still early in the day, they both knew that it was be a waste of time to continue to wonder about, hoping to stumble across something equally useful. She followed him back to the edge of the ruins.

             

              xxx

 

              _Before_

When she reached Tilaq, she tried to mount him by hauling herself up using an arm that was no longer there. The pain, which had abated for a time, returned tenfold, invading her mind. Strangely, it was not her arm that hurt, but her shoulders and neck. It was as if his Malice was being poured down her spine, pooling at the base of her neck. Moving send a chain reaction of agony shooting through her body and she leaned against the stallion’s flank, weeping into his coat. Pawing the ground, Tilaq must have sensed her struggle, because he bent his great forelegs, dripping his body so that she could clamber onto him. She took the reins, still only half straddling the saddle, unable to find the stirrups with her feet. She gave him a weak nudge with her knees, and he took a step before pausing, appearing to hesitate.

              "He's _gone_! _"_ she cried, her voice cracking. "Your master's not coming back! _"_ She slumped, hopeless. "Please... _please._ I'm going to die if you don't take me out of here... I'm going to..." She couldn't finish. The pain was too much, and she buried her face in his fiery mane, balling it in her fists helplessly.

              Troubled, the beast turned its massive head, nipping at her calves, causing her to jump and groan, shifting little by little until she was sitting properly in the saddle. Then, his pace steady and sure, they descended the mountain.

 

              xxx

 

              "Sun, you have to go now, while you still have the freedom to do so."

              "Mama, I can't just leave you."

              Yshri held her daughter, smoothing her hair. "It'll be okay. This is my home. I can go more good in Gerudo Town, but if you stay, you'll tear yourself apart. You're not meant to stay in one place for long."

              She knew Yshri was right. Things were only going to get worse. It was still possible for her to cross the Canyon Pass without trouble from the Hylian soldiers, but that wasn't going to last. Traders had been arrested, and while everyone tried to tell themselves the merchants had broken the law, that the arrests had been justified, there was an uneasy weight in the air. There would come a time when the desert ceased being their domain and became their prison. It was time to seize her freedom while she still had it.

              Even so, it was with a heavy heart that she left her home and crossed the bridge. The vast grasslands of Central Hyrule sprawled out before her, but knowing that she might not be able to return for a long time, the spirit of adventure withered inside her.

 

              xxx

 

              "What is this?"

              Sun looked up, forcing herself to smile. She could already tell that this exchange was not going to be a pleasant one. The Hylian tossed the package back at her across the counter and it rolled open, spilling its contents.

              "I almost choked on this," he growled.

              She looked at the meat roll. She had tried to make it like Zara had shown her, but it wasn't perfect. The chunks of pork were cut roughly, the whole thing clumsily put together. She flushed, an awful sinking feeling in her stomach. But then she met the Hylian's eyes, saw the petty aggression there and dashed any feelings of incompetence.

              "I'm sorry, Mr... what was it?"

              "Boris," he snapped.       

              "Boris. I'm sorry you don't enjoy my food," her voice had an edge to it that said she didn't feel sorry at all. "I'm not left handed."

              She was wearing a dress with long sleeves, her only hand on her hip, the empty sleeve on her right tucked up so that it wasn't a fire hazard while she was cooking. Boris flushed and she continued to smile sweetly at him. They both knew that the food would have been considered well prepared if made by a cook who had both her hands. It didn't matter if it looked messy, she knew for a fact that it still tasted good.

              "Well!" he stammered, trying a different tactic. "What is this meat? Dog? Are you snakes trying to cheat me by selling cheap meat?"

              Sun saw Zara pause over the wok, her lips growing thin. Zara didn't exactly have a way with customers, but even Sun was beginning to lose her temper. "It's pork, you pompous, spoiled _vehvi_." She picked up the wrap, rolling it back up. He hadn't actually eaten any of it. She took a bite. As she had thought, the sweet sticky sauce was just as good, the meat just as tender as should have been. Sure, it was perhaps a little fattier than she would have liked it, but farmers were charging them more and more for the same produce every week. If they didn't make some concessions they'd have to price their wares at far more than they were worth in order to break even. She wasn't going to tell him that, however. It was not lost on her the real reason he was kicking up a fuss. It was because she and Zara had the audacity to set up a Gerudo run stall at this very Hylian stable. "I'll have this if you don't want it," she sneered. "Now get out of here."

              He puffed himself up like a hot-headed Rito. "I want to speak to the owner of this stall."

              "It's just the two of us. And believe me, you don't want to deal with Zara."

              "'Aaq ujrulaaj voe ujzubii jo'qhidi 'umwujaah zai vukhun ukhaar." Zara grumbled. Roughly translated, she had said something like _tell the stupid man to spend his money elsewhere,_ but that would be putting it mildly. Sun couldn't stop herself snorting at the string of colourful terms.

              "What did she say?" Boris demanded.

              "She said we don't need your custom." A small crowd had gathered as people noticed the confrontation and stopped to listen in. Boris was still speaking, ranting about terrible service like an indignant cockerel, but Sun wasn't listening. She had spotted a familiar blond head in the group, the sun catching a sky-blue tabard. To Boris's stupefied horror, she raised her hand and waved furiously.

              "Link!"

 

              xxx

 

              It had been Zelda who had crafted her new arm. At first, Sun had been embarrassed that the Queen of Hyrule had taken the time to create her prosthetic personally, but she soon realised that Zelda wasn't doing this out of simple altruism. The questions she asked, the tests she had run, made it clear that Sun was her little experiment. She had already moved out of Hyrule Castle, and had set up a workshop in the Thyphlo Ruins, seemingly more pre-occupied with sheikah technology than the daily running of Hyrule. Link picked up the slack, dealing with captains and officials from the Church of Hylia, often taking on duties that far exceeded his role as the Queens appointed knight.

              Aside from her visits to the workshop for the occasional tune up, Sun spent most of her time with Link, helping him with the jobs and missions that Zelda sent him on. She was happy, and felt useful. Her new arm was a priceless gift, and the gratitude she felt for Zelda was a potent antidote to any feelings of anxiety she felt over the news she received from the desert.

              Zelda doesn't hate the Gerudo, she reasoned. She's been so kind to me.

              An uncomfortable voice at the back of her head rose up unbidden. _Remember the last time you thought that about someone_ , it seemed to hiss.

              She ignored it.

 

              xxx

 

              She was surprised then, when she was invited into Zelda's workshop with Link to deliver the core. The queen was waiting for them, dressed in an earth coloured robe with short sleeves, full of manic energy and excitement. Link handed her the core, but she set it aside impatiently. Sun frowned. They had searched for hours to get that, and Zelda had gone to great pains to impress upon them how important each and every core was to fuel her research. The way she handled it now made it seem as if it was just an afterthought.

              "Link, I'm so excited to see what you think of this," Zelda beamed. Going to a work bench in the centre of the work shop, she tried to lift the heavy metal object on it.

              Seeing her struggle, Sun stepped forward. "Allow me, your Majesty," she said.

              "Be careful. It's not as delicate as it looks, but it's one of a kind for now," Zelda instructed, stepping back to allow Sun to lift it. It was a four and a half foot long cylindrical object, plated with the precious metals that Sun had come to associate with all sheikah technology. There was a subtle vibration coming from it, something that she hadn't noticed until she was holding it. It felt familiar, but she couldn't quite picture what it reminded her of.

              Zelda went to the window and unlatched the shutters, letting misty sunlight spill into the room. Similar to her study at the castle, the workshop had been built in a tower that looked out over the foggy canopy of the ruins. "This is why I've been asking you to gather guardian parts. Now that I've been able to isolate this particular instrument, I think we can reverse engineer copies. Usually it doesn't work unless it's connected to the rest of the mechanical structure, but... well, you'll see in a moment. Sun, bring it here."

              She obeyed, curious. If this thing was what she thought it was...

              Zelda waved Link over. "I'm sorry, but I made this with a Hylian's proportions in mind, Sun, so if you could help Link just... that's right, use the window sill to support the barrel." Sun rested the cylinder on the sill while Zelda positioned link behind it so that his shoulder was braced against one end, instructing him on how to hold it with both hands, moving him so that his fingers were on a kind of hollow. Zelda flicked a switch on the instrument and the vibration became a high pitched whine. Immediately, Sun recognised what it was and she could see Link's eyes widen as he figured it out at the same time.

              Zelda had somehow ripped the laser weapon from a guardian and crafted it to function independently, creating a kind of cannon.

              "Now, Link, there's a panel under your fingers that will depress if you push it on it. Give it a shot."

              Link found what she was referring to and glanced at Sun. She stared back, feeling his hesitation. What would it feel like to be on the other side of such a destructive power? He took a breath and pressed the button. A red beam flickered, forming an unbroken line that Link could then point at any given target, along with the tell-tale sound of the laser powering up, like the trilling of a bird.

              "Hold it steady," Zelda warned. "You can't shut it off now. Find something to aim at."

              Link shot her a wide-eyed look of alarm. The beeping sound rose in pitch and tempo. Sun backed away. With a split second left to consider, Link bent his knees and planted his feet, tilting the canon up at the sky before it exploded in a blast of magenta light, sending him skidding a couple of feet back. It was identical to a guardian's blast, shooting up in a straight line into the clouds until it disappeared. Link stared at the cannon in his hands, which was glowing with the same white-pink energy, pulsing.

              "Okay, now put it down slowly. The barrel will be scalding to touch so be careful."

              Link, moving gingerly as if handling something alive, placed the cannon on the ground, stepping back from it. Zelda, on the other hand, was beaming. Unafraid, she bent and pressed the switch that had turned on it. The high hum became an indistinguishable vibration again.

              "Think what we can do to the walls of the plateau with this!" She exclaimed. "And this is just the beginning. Picture an instrument like this, but small enough to hold in two hands without support, or even one hand." Her eyes were alight with excitement. This glee dimmed as she looked from Link's worried expression to Sun, who was struggling to keep her own misgivings from showing on her face. "What's wrong?"

              "I'm sorry, your Majesty," she said, feeling embarrassed. "I just... It's difficult to express..."

              Link signed, and this time she could follow his clear, firm movements. _I do not feel right holding the weapons of Ganon in my hands._

"These aren't Ganon's," Zelda said, exasperated. "They're sheikah. They built the guardians thousands of years ago, and I've just expanded on their work. It's not their fault that Ganon poisoned their tools."

              Sun frowned. Something about the way Zelda refused to use the word 'weapon' bothered her. She wondered what the modern sheikah would think if they saw Zelda's new cannon. Would they be proud? Or would they feel the same creeping horror that she was experiencing?

              Link seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He made a series of short, angry gestures that she couldn't follow so well. Something about fighting, remembering.

              Zelda grew pale. "Sun," she said, "leave us."

              There was something about the way she said it that told Sun not to argue. She felt her embarrassment deepen, a flush creeping up her neck as if she had overheard something intimate that she shouldn't have, like a couple arguing. She shut the door behind her, trying to play Link's 'words' back in her mind in an attempt to parse it out, coming up with nothing.

 

              xxx

 

              _You were there!_ he signed. _You saw what those guardians did to people when they turned on us._

"Ganon's dead!" Zelda snapped. "It's not going to happen again."

_They say that even after the sheikah were successful in sealing Ganon away ten thousand years ago, the Hyrulian Royal Family buried their weapons and banished their creators. That's how terrible they were!_

"Fairy stories," she scoffed.

              _Impa told me these things._

"Yes, and Impa's dead. She was part of a people mired in the past. I am trying to look towards the future. I _knew_ you would react like this. So petrified by the terrors of long gone monsters that you cannot face the threats that are hounding our lives _today_. You once had the courage to turn the power of the Divine Beasts against him and his minions. Where is that courage now? What became of it?"

              Link bristled. _That was different! Nothing else could have defeated him._

"Do you know why Link? It was because the sheikah learned to taking his Malice and purify it, taking that raw power and turning it on him. It was the reason that he could take it back so easily - but you defeated him. We have a duty to all the peoples of Hyrule to use whatever means at our disposal to wipe out the Yiga menace. What wisdom is there in treading lightly? They cannot manipulate our arms against us like Ganon did, so why hesitate?"

              _And then what?_ He was red faced, heart hammering. He couldn't quite express why this was making him so upset, but he had to try to make her see. _What if we had never found the guardians? What if we had never rebuilt the Divine Beasts? We could have avoided the Calamity..._

"We would have been defenceless against Ganon!" she cried. "Don't be so stupid."

              _We would have found another way. Hylia lives within -_

"Oh yes, I remember. I remember how that power eluded me until the very end when it was too late. I remember how useless it was when I was trapped in that castle for one hundred years. If my father had only allowed me to take part in the research that was going into the ancient technology, I might have been able to build a shield or a deflection for Ganon's influence _. That_ was our only real chance."

              Something in her face changed. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. "Do you really want to live out the same stories over and over again? Do you really want your life to be defined by prophesy, dictated by powers and people dead for millennia?" She raised her head, looking him dead in the eye. "Or are you too much of a coward to take hold of your own destiny?"

              It was as if she had slapped him. He stood, looking at her, his face heavy with pain.

              She sighed. "I'm sorry. I just don't see the sense in abandoning the very things that could save Hyrule because we are scared of their potential for great power. It's not a reasonable thing to ask me to do. All I ask is that you be brave enough to trust me, to stay by my side no matter what happens."

              He felt his heart ache. It was a request she had made before, and before it had been so easy, so why did he feel like he was being torn in two? He was her knight, her right hand. It had never been difficult to obey before. But then, he knew that courage was not the absence of fear or doubt, but the ability to overcome them through great effort.

              Even as he knelt before her, his head bowed, he heard voices from the past, rising like ghosts around him.

              _Champion, do you know why I ask you to protect my daughter, to make sure she obeys my word. Because, Link, given complete freedom, she will do what she **can** , not what she **must**. Do you understand? ... No matter, you will, one day._

_Listen to me... You have always done a good job of taking care of the princess, and I fear she needs you more now than ever. I know what she's going to advocate for... It is critical that you protect her, even if she needs protection from herself. Do you understand?_

She put her hand on his head, smoothing his yellow hair. "Thank you, Link." To his surprise, she knelt in front of him, holding his head in her hands and resting her forehead against his, closing her eyes. "It hurts to see you speak against me. I need you to be brave for me."

              She kissed him, sweet and tender.

              There was a knock at the door. All too soon, her lips left his and she was standing, going to the door. Hurriedly, he got to his feet, assuming his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression.

              A Hylian guard stood at the door, looking flustered. "Your Majesty." He bowed, but it was a swift formality. He didn't wait for permission, verbal or otherwise to go on. "There are Gerudo outside the ruins. They want to speak with you."

              Link had to admit how impressed he was that she managed to maintain her composure, but he thought he saw a slight shift in her stance, a tension spring to her shoulders.

              "How do they know where to find me?" she asked.

              "I don't know, your Majesty. But they have the Gerudo man, Ganondorf, with them. It is he who is asking for you."

              "What?" There was definitely an edge of shock in her voice. "But he... disappeared. How could he...?" Several emotions flashed across her face. Link stepped forward, not touching her but reminding her that she stood beside her. This seemed to settle her. "Tell him I will not see him. He is to leave. Tell him if he refuses to depart before nightfall, I will send soldiers to have him forcibly removed."

              The guard snapped his heels together in a salute. "Right away, your Majesty." With that, he turned on his heel and left to follow her orders.

              She turned to Link. "Our old enemy had a funny habit of always coming back," she said sardonically. "I don't think he'll leave, do you?"

              He shook his head.

              "Then you know what to do."

              He nodded, and followed the guard out the door, descending the spiral staircase to go and prepare himself for the coming battle.

 


	9. Duel

              After she had been dismissed, Sun went out into the darkness to train. The grove of trees surrounding the ruins was swathed in a cloak of shadow as if it were eternally the deepest part of the night. The ruins themselves had been rebuilt to accommodate the queen and her retinue. Compared to the castle, it was cramped, full of jagged structures and sharp corners, with the bare minimum space afforded to those living there. It was a utilitarian place, meant for hiding and working, not a home away from home. The black mossy stone walls were lit by torches, their light contained by the near impenetrable darkness, only illuminating a small sphere of light. Sun took one of these and used it to light the sconces around a tiny courtyard where the earth had been packed down. It was the training ground for the guards to use when they weren't on duty, but it was only large enough for two people to spar comfortably in it, and no one liked being outside in the perpetual midnight, so most of the time it was deserted. It was difficult to ignore the air of depression that had fallen over the staff. They were used to long summer days and the wide-open thoroughfares and lofty battlements of the castle, and seemed to grow pale and irritable, as if they were starving for light. The only exception to this seemed to be Zelda's workshop, which peaked above the canopy of darkness and was bathed in sunlight every day from the long open windows that spanned the circular room.

              For Sun, the atmosphere outside matched her internal mood. The darkness brought a solitude that she took advantage of. No one seemed to want to break the quiet, speaking in hushed tonnes by default, and no one disturbed the strange foreigner with the metal arm. Before, she might have found this lonely, but after everything, the company of others exhausting. Surrounded by unfamiliar faces, she was reminded how out of time she was. All her thoughts became statements of what _should_ be. She _should_ have travelled the world. She _should_ have taken over her mother's position at the canteen so she could retire. She _should_ have grown up with her friends. More and more, life was starting to feel like a race and she had been held back at the starting line, watching everyone get further away until they were no longer visible. There was so much to do if she was going to catch up.

              So she took advantage of the neglected training yard to practise on her own. She knew that she might be wasting her time, that without instruction or oversight, she might be reinforcing poor form and technique, but she didn't want anyone watching her. She couldn't bear the thought that they might pity her. Gerudo _should_ be skilled and ferocious warriors. It was impossible for them to know how old she really was, but in her mind, she was ten years behind her peers and a stunted example of herself. Not even Link had seen her train. Even though they were both in their twenties, it was possible that Link saw himself as her senior when, in reality, she had been born before him.

              So she was surprised and rattled when a group of guards marched through the courtyard to the storeroom beyond. They immerged some time after armed with pikes and swords, wearing chainmail and the hard, expressionless faces of men who are preparing themselves to do distasteful but necessary work. It was obvious that they weren't here to train. Suppressing her annoyance, she called out to the leader of the squad.

              "What's going on?" Despite being outside, the darkness acted like a sponge, soaking up the sound of her voice and making it sound small and thin.

              He didn't break stride, his helmet under his arm, calling behind him. "The Gerudo have declined the queen's invitation to depart. We've been asked to _escort_ them away from the ruins."

              "Gerudo...?" she murmured, the soldiers now too far away from her to hear. How long had she been training? The lack of any change in the light or air made it impossible to judge the passage of time, but she didn't think it had been too long. What were her sisters doing trying to get into the ruins? Were they in trouble? Or were they trying to cause trouble? She was holding her seikan in each hand, and it only took her a split second of hesitation to come to a decision. Her armour was in a locked chest in her chamber. It only took her a few minutes to fetch it. If there was going to be a fight, Link would be leading the guards and she wanted to be there to help him. Her set of armour was incomplete, half of it burned away by Malice, but with her mechanical arm impervious to pain or irreparable damage, she only needed what was left.

              She found Link at the entrance of the ruins, just inside the dark cloud that blotted out the sun. He looked at her, and she was unable to read his expression. He seemed shocked to see her, but that didn't make sense. Of course she would come to help if she could. Was it worry? The thought mortified her.  But now was not the time to linger on her insecurities.

              "What are we dealing with?" she asked.

              He signed. _Five Gerudo. Led by -_

The last part was an amalgamation of two words; _Ganon_ and _man._ It was the first time she had seen this motion, but she understood it immediately and it was as if the ground below her had given way.            

              "What? What is he doing _here?"_

_I don't know._

              She had looked towards the entrance to the ruins instinctively just as he had signed this, so she just missed the tail end of the phrase. As a result, she was uncertain if he had said _I don't know_ or _I don't care._ The division between light and dark was a curtain, and she was unable to see anything beyond the first line of trees and the path that lead to the mountainous area beyond. The torches on either side of them only served to make the darkness around thicker.

              There had to be some mistake. There was no way Ganondorf was here now. It had been so long since she had seen him, since that night when he had almost killed the both of them. Eventually, her curiosity and disbelief overcome her anxiety and she stepped past Link, tucking herself close to the trees. There was no need for surprise or secrecy, so he didn't stop her, but she could feel him watching her. He couldn't know what was going through her head, but she felt his concern to be intrusive and couldn't help but harbour a little resentment. How could he question her resolve? After everything she had done to reclaim what had been taken from her?

              It was surreal how the magical blackness parted before her, giving way to a softer, natural evening light, the sun below the horizon but still painting the clouds with the gentlest pinks and blues. She had fully expected not to see anyone there, or to see some imposter posing as Ganondorf, but sure enough, he was resting at the side of the wide road that lead up to ruins, his back against a boulder. He was accompanied by four women. They were on edge and kept glancing towards the trees and up at the shadow of Death Mountain, and in contrast he seemed calm. They must have been waiting there for some hours now, because their packs and weapons had been set aside and it looked like they had made themselves comfortable. Sun stared at him, irrationally enraged by his casual, almost sleepy posture. He looked happier than he had any right to be given the soldiers waiting to confront him on the other side of the darkness. It wasn't just him. The other Gerudo made her blood burn. How could they not see that he was lying to them? There had to be some manipulation, some falsehood that he was using to keep them by his side. Which one of them had he chosen to favour? There was no doubt in her mind that he could not be spending any length of time with her sisters without snaring at least one by the heart. By the looks of it, it was the warrior with the high ponytail typical of the Chief’s guardswomen. They were talking, and she was smiling at him in a way that made Sun feel sick to the core.

              Frozen in place, watching them with almost voyeuristic intensity, she wasn't able to tear herself away before he spotted her silhouette against the treeline. He got to his feet in that slow, careful way he had done when he had first met her three years ago, as if he had spotted a doe between the trees and was worried he would spook her. His companions followed his gaze, but she had already dipped back into the safety of the darkness.

              Unstrapping her bracer, she walked past Link, muttering to him as she removed the rest of her armour. "Chasing him off is a waste of time," she said. "Better to kill him so he can't keep coming back."

              He caught her right arm as she passed, but she slipped out of his grasp, answering his unasked question. "I won't fight today. I won't have anything to do with him."

             

              xxx

 

              "What is it vosha? Do you know her?"

              "I... Yes. A long time ago."

              Daniyah was peering at him. "Well, that's good then. She might help our case with the queen."

              "No," he said slowly. "This might hurt our chances."

              "What do you mean?"

              He shook his head. His face was drawn, his mouth tight and grim. So far, he had been optimistic, at least outwardly for their sakes. Even when they had been told to leave by nightfall, he had decided to stay, certain that if they were proven to be peaceful and resolute, Zelda - or at least one of her representatives - would be forced to speak to them. Now that Sun had appeared like an omen out of the darkness, his certainty wavered. There was an ugly, twisting feeling in his gut. He had imagined what it would be like to see her again, that time might have done something to sooth the animosity, but now that it had come to it, he clung to the ridiculous hope that he had been mistaken. That woman had two arms, he reminded himself, and though her right arm had been clad in strange archaic armour, it had looked whole.

              "Don't tell me you have a scorned lover," Nadira giggled and her sister slapped her across the shoulder, scolding her, but it was too late. Flushing, he gritted his teeth. She would have no idea how close her little joke was to the truth, but he wasn't going to say anything that would invite more questions.

              "I've never seen an arm like that," Ghana said, staring off towards where Sun had disappeared. "Did you see the hand? It was like a claw. It's almost like they took bits off a guardian and merged it with her flesh."

              Ganondorf swore under his breath, his heart sinking.

              There was no time to brood, however. Soldiers, twelve of them, emerged from the edge of the ruins and marched towards them, armed, armoured and ready for a fight. At their head was the young man he had come to recognise as the Hylian Champion, the one who had stolen his horse and challenged him in front of Sun. They had never personally exchanged words, any imagined slight against him hardly worth consideration, but even so, Ganondorf couldn't help but feel an unnatural annoyance spring up out of nowhere. Furthermore, he could see that hostility returned in Link's eyes as the latter removed his helmet, revealing a barely disguised scowl. He was different to when Ganondorf had last seem him at the castle. His clean, unblemished knights armour had been exchanged for something darker, heavier. His shield, no longer the Hylian colours of the royal family, as a grim reflective steel, stained black as if by ash. He was not wearing the white and blue tabard.

              Ganondorf took a deep breath. The fate of two nations was dependant on the outcome of this meeting, and Link was key to getting access to Zelda. He was struck by the symmetry of the event. Both of them, representatives of their queens, knights of their people, motivated by loyalty and desire to see an end to the fighting. Both of them lacked royal blood, singled out by destiny to act out one role in the play of the Goddesses, each of them on the opposite side of the game board; white knight and cruel villain. That would be how his opponent saw it. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage. It wasn't about his sisters behind or about the Hylian soldiers who gazed at him with a hatred that only just masked their fear of the other, of the foreigner. It was about the two of them - and the third actor who had chosen not to take part in this scene.

              The Champion made a series of signals with his hands, and his lieutenant, marked by the blue crest on his helmet, translated. Ganondorf narrowed his eyes. Link was a man famous for his silence. He had never realised that it was as complete as this.

              "You were told to leave this place," the lieutenant said. "Your time is up. You have one last chance. Go now, or we will be forced to remove you ourselves."

              In response, he unfastened his sword and laid it beside him. He turned to his companions and said, "We're not going anywhere, but I'm going to ask you not to fight." This was the second time they had been faced with a hostile force and he had asked them to have faith in pacifism. It took a little longer than last time for them to follow his lead, putting down their weapons. With this done, he turned back to Link and lowered himself to the ground. He didn't kneel, but sat cross-legged, his back straight, his hands on his knees, as if in meditation. Like this, he was still tall enough that they were almost eye to eye.

              This seemed to infuriate Link, who drew his sword and advanced, but as he hoped, Link did not order his men to do the same. Ganondorf didn't move, even as the Hylian levelled his sword - the elegant Mastersword - so that the tip was inches from his throat. The blade responded to his proximity, glowing a brilliant blue and Ganondorf raised his eyebrows. He had been curious as to whether or not the legendary blade would respond to the Malice beating in his heart, and now he had his answer. Link seemed surprised as well, but then he assumed a hard expression. Tilting his head at the sword to Ganondorf's right, he pushed forward just a little so that he felt the sting of the blade as it burned his neck. The meaning was clear.

              _Pick it up. Fight. Or I'll kill you._

He could see it in Link's face. There would be no dialogue, not yet. Anger and insult raged in those slanted blue eyes and something else, something dark and empty. These were the eyes of a man who has no other option, he realised. Link truly believed that there is no alternative. He _must_ be Ganondorf's enemy, and he _must_ destroy him. To do anything else would be out with the realm of possibility. Part of him wanted to prove Link right, to stand and cut him down like a dog. That's all he was, in a way. Just a barking dog who stood in the way of progress. But he stifled his emotions. No, he told himself. He was more than that. He was a man and if Ganondorf could judge the frantic passion in his eyes, a man who was caught up in a rapidly escalating situation that he would do anything to bring back to terms he understood.

              Just like him.

"I'll meet your challenge," he said. "But just you and I, Champion. My eishai are not going to fight your men, and they will lay down their arms as we have done."

              To his relief, Link stepped back, nodding to his lieutenant who gave the order. The soldiers hesitated, but would not disobey direct orders. Shields and spears were laid on the road. Satisfied, Ganondorf got to his feet and picked up his great sword. He was calm. He already knew what was going to happen, because, in one reality or another, it had happened before. This encounter was not balanced. He was whole and uncorrupted; Link was not.

              The stood opposite each other, Ganondorf steady and unmoving, save his eyes which watched Link like the eyes of a hawk. Link had his shield raised, his sword humming softly with energy as if it has a soul of its own that longed to end him. It was Link that moved first, darting forward. He was lightning fast and if the strike had landed, it would have delivered a lethal wound, and he was able to twist his body away, the blade splitting air inches from his chest. Unable to move his heavy claymore with the speed required, Ganondorf used his free hand to shove Link staggering back, only to have him recover gracefully.

              Compared to the Hylian, Ganondorf was a goliath, his sweeping blows able to land with the power of thunder, but he could not press his advantage. The Mastersword was an impressive longsword, but it was like a needle compared to his own heavy claymore. This meant that Link could leap too close for a weapon like that to strike effectively, and this was proven when the first hit of the battle left a shallow, but stinging wound on Ganondorf’s shoulder. He had only just managed to redirect the blow from his heart, but the blades didn’t bind, and Link managed to slip it upwards, the point narrowly missing his face and forcing him to lash out, swinging in a wild arc that sent Link dancing back once more. It became clear to him his opponent was no stranger to tackling creatures far bigger than himself, and that his underestimation might have been misplaced. However, Link was a knight, trained formally from birth. He did not share Ganondorf’s experience with desperate scraps and the visceral up-close violence of survival. This was not going to be a battle won by swords.

              He threw his sword aside and faced Link, his hands up and open, waiting. The latter didn’t seem to comprehend this, his brow creasing in confusion, but his strategy became apparent when Link took the opportunity to attack. As soon as he was within reach, Ganondorf, now unhampered by his sword, seized Link’s left forearm and twisted, rendering him off balance, and pointing the Mastersword safely away from his body. He was ready for the shield to come around in retaliation, taking hold of the edge and using his superior strength to force it back and away.

              "Link," he said, struggling to keep holding him as he writhed. "You cannot defeat me, not like this."

              In response, Link drove his foot into his kneecap, causing him to grunt with pain and let go. As if propelled by wings, he leaped upwards. Seeing this, Ganondorf caught him mid-air and threw him down so that he landed hard on the road, rolling away from him. He heard the Hylian soldiers shout and start forward, going for their weapons, but Link was getting to his feet, holding up his hand before taking up his shield. His hands were grazed from using them to brace his fall and he was panting, bleeding from a cut on his forehead, his armour scuffed and scratched. His hair had gotten loose from its braid and fell over his face, hiding those bright and burning eyes.

"This is futile," he growled. "I know why you're doing this, but ask yourself what it will mean if you kill me. What is the conclusion, Link?"

              Link hesitated. His chest was heaving, his sword arm sagging.

              "Listen to me. I know you believe that the only way to break the cycle of war and violence is to kill me, but all that means is that your sons will fight the same battle against mine forever. This is no way to accomplish lasting peace, and you know it. It has happened before. Look inside yourself and you'll remember our countless clashes."

              He didn't care if Link tried to make another attack, he was done. Stooping, he picked up the scabbard for his sword and sheathed it, before walking to hand it to Farah, who took it from him, looking confused and worried. He smiled at her reassuringly before turning back to Link.

              He continued, gently. "Don't you see what's happening here? You know who I am. You know we are bound together in a way that goes beyond the here and now. I made a mistake. I left Hyrule - and in my absence, I see that the world is slipping into darkness again. Do you understand what I'm saying? In my _absence._ I am not the corrupting force you think I am. Remove me from the stage and there is no balance. Your queen's wisdom is turning to callous arrogance and your courage is being used against you, leaving you blind against your enemies, within and without. You _need_ me. I can give you the power you need to actually protect her. You cannot defeat me, and you cannot defeat the Yiga now because you are not whole."

              Link was staring at him, the fury in his eyes dying away and being replaced with confusion and fear. The Gerudo and the Hylians were silent, and it was as if he was alone with the Champion

              "Moreover, Queen Zelda needs me. I have behind me the backing of a proud and powerful nation. She will need our friendship in order to put an end to the Yiga Clan. My chief offers her friendship and her might. It is clear to me now that Zelda will not accept this because her heart is hardened, which is why she sent you out to kill me. But if you can reach her, remind her of her compassion, counter her coldness with your courage so that she might realise who her true friends are, then maybe we can do something more than set the stage for our descendants to re-enact this fight again one hundred, or one thousand, or ten thousand years from now. My power has failed to corrupt me this time. If she can find the strength to defeat her own demons, I can lend her the power to cleanse the world of our true enemies."

              There was a long silence, where the only sound was the wind from the mountain, carrying with it black ash and the smell of sulphur. After what seemed like an age, Link finally, wordlessly, nodded. He replaced his sword and shield on his back and approached Ganondorf unarmed. They regarded each other. The hardest part was over, but if he really believed what he was saying, he had to solidify his peace offering. Unstrapping his gauntlet, Ganondorf offered Link his gloved hand and after what looked like an intense internal struggle, Link grasped it. He had no second in command to speak of, but he waved for Daniyah to come forward and shake the hand of Link's lieutenant, who was looking up the Gerudo as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening.

              Ganondorf retrieved Riju's message from his pack and handed it to Link.

              "I trust that you can get through to her. I know you can make her understand. If you can't, no one can."

 


	10. Coward

              Watching from her tower, Zelda felt a dizzying sense of deja vu. At this vantage point, she could see the figures of her men leave the safety of the ruins and confront the Gerudo band. She couldn't hear the words being exchanged between Link and the brute, Ganondorf, but she had a feeling he wasn't going to back down without a fight. It was confusing, to know someone so well, despite having only met them once before, but she relied on her instincts, listening to what lingered inside her. He seemed to have grown into his role. The diplomats robe he had worn when they had first met was as much a costume as the smile he had given her, barely more than a smirk. Now, surrounded by his countrywomen, standing over Link, hair like fire and holding his colossal sword aloft, he looked like something out of a fairy tale, or a memory that did not belong to her. Watching him was like watching a play that she had seen long ago, only now she had the advantage of being an observer, not a player. Uncompelled to recite the script, there was a thrilling unease in sending Link to fight him outright, to dare Ganondorf to give her a reason to order his execution, as if she were breaking some unspoken taboo.

              Still, standing there, watching as Link accepted the challenge, she felt a creeping terror, her heart thudding. The surreality of the scene felt like she had slipped into a nightmare and she gripped the window sill with shaking hands as swords were raised. The first blow fell and it was like it had struck her instead of Link. When Gnaondorf threw him down, she covered her mouth with her hands, feeling sick. A strange sensation came over her, as if she were watching herself overlook the fight and wondering why she was so afraid. If it had all happened before, why did she fear the outcome as if were unpredictable?

              But then, it didn't happen the way it was supposed to. There was no killing blow. The fight simply wound down and ended without a climax or obvious defeat. Confused, she watched as Ganondorf handed something to Link and then took his hand, consummating some kind of agreement. Her mind ran through hundreds of possibilities, trying to understand what she had just witnessed. Link shouldered his sword and disappeared under the canopy of darkness, while Ganondorf and his fellows swiftly packed up and left the way they had come, apparently satisfied.

              What did it mean?

              She didn't have the patience to wait for Link to come to her. Not bothering to wrap a shawl or cloak around her to protect against the oncoming cold of the night, she lifted a torch from its bracket outside her door and descended the spiral staircase, intending on meeting him half way. Instead, she ran into Sun, who was pacing the entranceway, agitated, like a moth caught in a jar. She spotted Zelda, and bowed, though the movement was rushed and graceless.

              A sudden, horrible thought occurred to Zelda.

              "Sun," she said, careful to keep her voice neutral.

              "Your Majesty." Sun stopped pacing, though her metal fingers tapped against her thigh anxiously. Zelda observed this, interested to see how her invention so perfectly imitated the natural movements of a real arm and hand, even going so far as to betray Sun's thoughts and worries.

              "What are you doing here?" she asked, tilting her head upward so that she could see Sun's green eyes.

              "Your Majesty?" Sun frowned.

              "Why are you still here, Sun? Surely, now that you've made a full recovery, you would have left to return to your homeland. Your mother must be missing you. Yet you're still here, months after I fashioned you that arm."

              Sun seemed to notice that she was fidgeting, because she stilled her artificial hand with the organic one, holding it in front of her.

              "I'm here to help Link," she said. "He has so much that he has to do every day. I'm sure your work is very important, so instead of disturbing you, I've stayed behind to help him with his tasks and errands. I really don't mind... To be honest, I would prefer to stay here until things settle down a little."

              "If Link needs an assistant, he has any number of the servants and guards at his disposal. He's not just a knight anymore, he's my general."

              "I really don't mind," she said again, but Zelda's face hardened. She walked past Sun, standing just inside the doorway to the forest beyond the ruins, lighting the torches that had been neglected with the one in her hand before smothering it. If she had hoped to see Link from the doorway, she would be disappointed. The unnatural darkness was as thick and impenetrable as the black stone of the ruins themselves. A minute passed.

              "What do you think of Ganondorf coming here to speak with me?" she asked, turning so that she could watch Sun's reaction.  

              "If he was actually here to talk, it would be a first. He was hardly the one to begin a conversation. He preferred silence so that he could appear superior. If he's come here, it's for one reason. He wants something, and when he wants something, it means someone has to lose something."

              Zelda was surprised by the bitterness she heard, but perhaps Sun's voice was a little too high strung, a little too emotional. Lying was not something alien to the Gerudo after all. "You travelled with him for a time, didn't you? You were... _close."_

She had expected Sun to flush, to look guilty, but instead she let out a sigh and smiled, amused. "I don't think he would like the idea of someone who used to know him like that keeping company with the Queen of Hyrule. He's the most secretive person I've ever known. If you're looking for any insight into how he thinks, I'd be more than happy to share my thoughts. In truth, it comforts me to think it would make him uncomfortable."

              Zelda did not return the smile. "Do you think a lot about how he thinks?"

              This time, Sun did go red. Before she could compose a suitable response, Zelda held up her hand, turning back to the darkness. She held footsteps approaching. Down the path, a light emerged, bobbing just above head height like a poe's lantern. It grew into steady torchlight and Link came into view, carrying the torch in one hand and a bronze canister in the other.

              "What happened?" Zelda asked, stepped forward to free Link's hands. At first, he didn't say anything and she could feel her heart fluttering impatiently. His hesitation worried her almost as much as seeing the fight from her window. "Tell me," she insisted.

              _He came to deliver a message,_ he signed. _It's for you, from Chief Riju. I think you should read it. I think we need to reconsider a few things._

Zelda stared at the canister in her hands. "Riju sent this?"

              He nodded.

              "I don't understand..."

              Link seemed to be wrestling with something. His eyes, normally clear, were clouded and troubled. Taking a deep breath, he raised his hands and slowly formed words. _I think... I think there are some things that we have been taking for granted. There are... directions we've taken that might..._ His hands fell still, and he frowned deeply. Then he started again. _We must take a step back and assess the situation we find ourselves in. We've been pushing forward, anticipating a future that we think is there without looking up to see what **is**_ _there._

Zelda stared at him. Before she had felt anxious, now she just felt cold, like a drop of ice had crystallised inside her heart. "Did Ganondorf tell you this?"

              _No. He didn't want to fight me. He only did so because I demanded it._

"That sounds familiar," said Sun. Zelda started, having forgotten that she was there in the face of Link's arrival. "He never wanted to fight. Deep down, he's afraid of conflict. Conflict means risking something, and he'll avoid risk at all costs."

              Link shook his head, distressed. _No. He wasn't afraid._

"Link, you know you can't trust him," Zelda said.

              _He didn't tell me to do anything. He just... asked some questions I didn't realise needed asking. What I'm suggesting now is a possible answer._

              xxx

Zelda set aside the torch and opened the canister, bringing out the scroll within, breaking the seal and unfurling it. Holding it up to the torchlight, she began to read Riju's letter, her frown deepening with every line. Link watched her, feeling more and more like the situation was slipping out of his control.

"Ganondorf _lies_ ," he heard Sun hiss, bringing him back to the conversation at hand. "He's so good at it, he convinces himself of his own deceptions."

              "Sun's right," Zelda said. “It's obvious to me what's happened. While we've been focusing on the Yiga, Ganondorf has been able to secure his place among the Gerudo. He's manipulated himself into a position of authority - either through violence or deception, and just like all the times before, his people fall in line."

              Sun, who had been leaning against the wall, nodding alone in agreement up until now, froze, her eyes narrowing. Zelda didn't seem to care, continuing on. "He has forced Riju to reach out to me, calling for an alliance so that he can have better access to the throne of Hyrule, seed his minions in my court and gain a foothold that will allow him to claim even more power. He knows I won't accept it coming from him, so he's used my friend. She's either caught up in the middle of it, or she's in league with him. Either way, there's little I can do now..." As she said the words, he could see despair well up behind her eyes, but more than that, there was a coiling fury rising up in her that made the scroll tremble in her hand. "I _warned_ her. I _knew_ this would happen. I should have realised it was too late the moment I saw him with her."

              _Zelda,_ Link signed. _Think about this._ Everything she was saying sounded right, but it felt wrong. He didn't know what to think. He didn't trust Ganondorf, but Zelda was acting just like he had predicted, twisting things around. All this time, he had been forced to divert their resources to keeping peace in the desert, which meant giving the Yiga the kind of slack that was prolonging the siege. But Zelda was now insisting it was the other way around and he had never known her to be wrong. She had been right about him, after all. He was growing weaker. He couldn't even defeat Ganondorf in a fair fight. He longed to slow things down, to halt this relentless march that was inevitably heading towards igniting the cold war on two fronts. If only he had time to _think._

              _The Gerudo are good people,_ he tried.

              "Yes," Sun affirmed. "We would not fall to corruption so easily."

              "Oh?" Zelda rounded on her. "Do you think me stupid?"

              Link sensed the rage in her voice and it startled him, leaving him motionless.

              "N-no, your Majesty, I was only -"

              "Do you think I don't know about how your people are sneaking into my country, breaking my laws? You don't _belong_ here. How did Ganondorf know how to find me, Sun?"

              Link snatched her wrist, forcing her to look at him. _What are you saying? Think of what you're accusing her of. It's because of Ganondorf that she lost her arm and needed our help._

Zelda glared at him. She seemed to be gathering herself up, taking deep breaths and closing her eyes. "Am I the only one who can see what's going to happen...?" She asked, so softly it seemed she was talking more to herself than Sun or Link.

              Composed once more, she returned her attention to Sun. "I think it's best that you leave the Highlands. Your place is with your people, especially during such a diplomatically _difficult_ time. Pack up your possessions. I expect you to leave tomorrow morning at the latest." She said this in a calm, measured tone, almost as if she were genuinely acting in the interest of Sun's safety, but Link could see the coldness in her eyes, hear the slight dip in pitch.

              Sun looked like she was about to argue, but Link caught her eye and shook his head. He didn't want to see his friend go, but the situation was too volatile and she didn't deserve to be caught up it. He could always find her later. The Gerudo bowed, her dragon's mane of hair falling over her face. She didn't say a word as she straightened up and swept out of the room.

              After several seconds of horrible silence, Zelda spoke.

              "You failed me, Link. I trusted you to show them that we would not bend, that we do not negotiate with monsters. I saw you fight him from my window. I saw how the Mastersword responded to him. It can only mean that he embodies Ganon's power. And _you_ -" An edge crept into her voice like he had never heard before and it terrified him, his breath catching in his throat "- The Hero of Hyrule, my Champion, _shook his hand and did his bidding._ " She hadn't raised her voice, but he would have preferred it if she had shouted. The bitterness in those words seared like venom. "You barely deserve that sword on your back. If you go against me again, you will surrender it, and be dismissed."

              It was as if the ground beneath him had fallen away, leaving him hovering over an endless void. He barely recognised her. Desperately, he tried one more time to reach her. _Zelda... This war can be avoided. We haven't yet made an enemy of the Gerudo. Ganondorf came to me and laid down his sword. There **is** a threat, a very real one, on the Great Plateau. He is not Urbosa, but he is not Ganon either. I know you think that this is all set in stone, that you're the only one who can see how it has been written, and maybe that's true, but maybe what you're seeing is only reflections of the past, not predictions of the future._

To her credit, Zelda let him speak without interruption, watching him carefully. But when she replied, her voice betrayed her weariness. "There are records of excellent Sheikah scholars and scientists, who perfected methods of proving and disproving their assumptions of the world. They would recreate the conditions necessary to play out their ideas, and replicate them. Over and over until even the least learned among them had to admit them either true or false. It is because of them that we know that silver is the greatest anbaric metal, that yarrow will hasten a fever. The conditions for this battle have been replicated countless times for tens of thousands of years since the very beginning of Hyrule. When the lives of our people are at stake, how can you ask me to disregard the collective wisdom of my ancestors?"

              He couldn't say anything. She had brought this argument to him before, and each time it swayed him, but it just didn't feel right. There was so much that didn't make sense. Ganon had been defeated four years ago, and that meant that Ganondorf had been co-existing with the force that Zelda insisted were one and the same for most of this life. He was no priest or scholar, and his direct exposure to the will of the Goddesses paled in comparison to hers, but it seemed wrong to equate the patterns of fate to contrived experiments. It felt less like Zelda was acting to prevent what she saw as the definite and immutable truth of the future, and more like she was manipulating the conditions to bring about a future that would justify her predictions. The very thought felt blasphemous, impossible to hold in his mind without it burning him, so he put it away and refused to accept it.

              "Here's what you're going to do," she said. "You're going to send messages to the Rito and the Zora. We need them for the fight ahead. If we're going to take back Gerudo, we need to starve them of their allies. The Yiga are the lesser threat, so we're going to deal with them directly. It's time this siege ended once and for all. Am I understood?"

              He bowed.

              "Go then. Don't fail me again."

 

              xxx

 

              Three days passed. Ganondorf and the others had set up a camp on the bank of Lake Mekar, unable to shake the feeling that they had failed in their mission. Neither Queen Zelda or Link seemed likely to respond to Riju's message, and it had been clear they were not welcome to stay at the Thyphlo Ruins to find out.

              Despite this, he wasn't prepared to leave the region. If Zelda changed her mind and wanted to send a message back to Riju, or even engage himself in a dialogue, he wanted to be there to accept it. There were not uncomfortable, with supplies to last them several more days and a lake full of fish. The rest of the Gerudo were happy to stay, bolstered by the apparent truce he had established with the queen's champion. But it was getting more and more difficult to hide the fact that he had no idea what he was supposed to do next.

              In the end, he composed a letter to the chief, confirming the safe delivery of her message and requesting orders. Then, leaving all but Farah behind, headed west to Tabantha, hoping to find a trustworthy Rito courier.

 

              xxx

 

              Two weeks passed. Link was pinning a map to a table in a room at the reconstructed Gatepost Town. Prince Sidon and Teba of the Rito were there. The atmosphere in the room was sombre. This meeting was long overdue. The siege had been going on for months now, but given the size and climate of the plateau, he was sure that the Yiga would be able to last months, if not years more, and he didn't like the idea of letting them stew up there, thinking and planning and building. Who knew what the land looked like, what structures had been erected and torn down.

              Of the three of them, Sidon had the largest and most well-trained fighting force, and so would be at the front of the offensive. It wasn't a bad plan, all things considered. It had been Zelda's idea to use the natural strengths of their respective races to their advantage.

              Once he was sure that his friends were comfortable, he laid out his plan, Sidon translating for Teba where he failed to follow. They would attack the west side of the plateau, he explained, following the Regencia River to where it began, scaling the waterfall to the River of the Dead. The Zora would use this as their fighting grounds. While in their element, they would be unstoppable, skilfully eviscerating any Yiga foot soldiers that came to meet them. They would also have the advantage of surprise. Once the initial breakthrough had been achieved, Zora and Rito soldiers would ferry in Hylians to join the fray. They would spread out, combing the fields and forests for Yiga. Depending on the success of the mission and the lay of the land once they got there, they would either take the opportunity to eliminate the Yiga Clan outright, or tighten the noose considerably, laying siege to them within the abbey or the temple, or wherever they had set up their base. Once trapped and without access to the natural resources afforded them in the plateau proper, they would surely succumb in a matter of weeks.

              It was straightforward, effective and fool proof. It felt good to finally be taking action. All confusion he felt about the future could wait. This was simple. The Yiga were aggressive, malicious and cornered. It might be on a bigger scale, and he might be responsible for hundreds of Hylian's, Zora and Rito, but when it came down to it, it was himself, his allies and his wits against an enemy. This made _sense._

              _Do we all understand what needs to be done?_ He asked.

              Sidon did not need to repeat Link's question. They both nodded, and left to prepare their respective troops. Link lingered, eyes on the map, tracing the line of the river and with his gloved hand. All going well, they would be fighting in and around the Temple of Time, a place already scarred and littered with the ghosts of past defeats. Even the name of the river seemed like a bad omen, but he would not let it shake him.

              Zelda had been right. History might be on the verge of repeating itself, but not if they seized it with both hands and took control of their own destiny.

 


	11. Loss

It would be Prince Sidon and himself at the head of the Zora troops in the first movement of the battle. Link, aided by his Zora armour, would be swimming with them. The metal elements gleamed like silver, reflecting the early morning sunlight that peeked through the curtains of his room. Summer was officially here. He had hoped for some cloud cover to hide the Rito soldiers, but judging by the brilliant sunrise and crystal-clear skies, it was proving to be the perfect summers day. This did mean he didn't have to worry about being too cold. The Zora armour clung to his body like rubber, insulating him against even the most freezing waters, but that didn't mean he wouldn't feel it. The River of the Dead was named for its heart-stoppingly cold waters on the snowy edge of the plateau. He would have dreaded attempting this in Winter. Perhaps it was a good thing they had waited until now before striking. Queen Zelda was not with them. She was at the Hylian camp at the entrance to Gerudo, far enough away from the fighting to be safe, and close enough for him to report to immediately after the battle.

              Sidon was waiting for him outside, looking Link over, smiling. It wasn't the wide sharks smile he was used to, but then they were not working together under the most pleasant of circumstances. The armour he wore had been commissioned for him by Sidon's sister, as a symbol of betrothal, and as such there was an unspoken solemnity between the Prince and the Champion, both painfully aware of her absence. No one would be there to heal them if things went wrong. But it would not do to dwell on that, so Link cleared his throat, straightened his back, and began the short walk to the banks of the Aquame Lake that joined with the Regencia further northwest. It would be far faster travelling by waterway.

              There were just over a hundred Zora gathered at the bank. There would be no speeches, no ceremony. Time was of the essence. He did feel a little strange, walking about the Zora who towered over him, making him feel out of place. His own people were waiting in the coliseum, primed to be called upon once the initial Yiga defence had been cut through.

              Just as he was about to wade into the lake, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Sidon was behind him, and next to him was a sleek female, salmon silver with large blue eyes and long multicoloured fins that rippled blue and pink in the sunlight. She seemed nervous.

              "This is Kite," Sidon said, and she bowed. Link could see her long webbed feet curling with anxious energy. "I hope you don't mind, my friend, only we're going some distance and at some pace. I'm sure you'll be able to fight just fine in that armour once we get there, but I'm concerned that you might have trouble keeping up. So Kite here has agreed to let you hold onto her if you fall behind. Just for the journey there, you understand."

              _No,_ he waved, _I can keep up. There's no need -_

              "It's alright," said Kite. She had a melodious accent, high, gentle and so hauntingly familiar he felt a sharp pain in his heart. "It would be an honour." He shook his head more firmly.

              _No, I can do this on my own. I don't need your help._

              His movements must have given away his annoyance because Sidon narrowed his eyes and frowned, before translating for Kite; "He'll be fine, my dear. Thank you for volunteering. With people like you," he added, resuming his more positive energy and flashing her a handsome grin, "we'll show those Yiga what happens when they mess with us!"

              She returned his beam, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet, before returning to the squad she had been assigned. When Sidon turned back to Link, his winning smile slipped. "Link, there's no need to be rude. We're here to support each other. They won't stand a chance if we're working together."

              _Don't worry. This is going to be just like old times. We've got the best people here, and we're attacking from the ground, the river and the air. You're right, there's no way they can last more than a day!_ He pumped his fist and Sidon's brightness returned. _I just don't want to take a soldier away from the actual fighting because they have to ferry me around, not when I'm just as fast and capable as any Zora in the water._

Sidon laughed. "Alright, alright. If you change your mind, just signal for one of us, and we'll be delighted to help."

              Link's smile became fixed. He wasn't going to be asking for help. As Sidon moved his attention to his troops, checking in with each squad before they embarked, Link checked over his suit, making sure his sword was safe and insulated from the water in its waterproof scabbard, that his bow was securely fixed in place. He had forgone his shield, knowing the heavy thing would drag him to the bottom of the freezing water and be the death of him. As such he felt light and buoyant, even on land. Mipha's suit really was masterwork. They wouldn't see him coming. He stretched, impatient to begin, eyes on Sidon who would be giving the signal. In a couple of minutes that felt longer than he would have liked, but briefer than he expected, the prince jerked his head towards the water and took a running swan dive into the lake, followed by the first of the Zora.

              Link followed his lead and took to the water like diving bird, feeling it meet his body in a jolting cool slap. The current was gentle and they would be swimming with it. He kicked and effortlessly fell into formation. As they followed the small bend that curved southwest into the Regencia proper, he began to lag. They cascaded down the waterfall that led to the lake under the Digdogg suspension bridge, and were now coursing along the long stretch towards the final waterfall that would lead up onto the Plateau, but Link had landed heavier than he had meant to and at the wrong angle, causing him to dive far deeper than he intended. His Zora counterparts were not mammalian like him, despite being amphibious, meaning they had gills and could breathe underwater. When he finally surfaced, he was light headed and had fallen behind quite a way. Furious with himself, he struck out in an attempt to catch up with them, only to find that, while the suit made him far more graceful that any Hylian in water, he was fighting against the current now and had lost his momentum. The shape of his body meant struggling against drag despite being made as slick and streamlined as possible. Gritting his teeth, he powered through as far as he could, but when he reached the waterfall at the other end of the canyon, the last of the Zora had already disappeared over the top.

              The river had been pleasantly cool up until now, but the churning shafts of water pummelling him from above were like knives, striking him with an ice-cold relentlessness that took his breath away. The Zora would also struggle against the cold, but their bodies, at least, were built to withstand great depths and alien places. He could see the shadows of the Rito bands zip past him. They would do fine, with thick feathers to protect them and used to making their homes in the chilly highlands of Hyrule. The further up the waterfall he flew, the colder it became until he couldn’t feel his hands or feet, and his lungs felt raw and shredded.

              He breached the top of the waterfall in a great leap and saw not the empty mountainside he had expected, but chaos.

              The Yiga had been prepared for them. They manned the banks in groups of two or three, gathered around trenches that contained what could only be canons, lined with sheikah patterns and pointed right at him. Less than a second after he had come into view, red lines cut through the mist to find him, marking him. He heard the unnatural trilling and his heart skipped a beat. Almost on instinct, he twisted his body in the air and dived. He hit the cutting water head first as if it were a solid wall, and pain flared in his shoulders and chest. Guardian lasers pierced the sky and a body plunged into the water next to him, heavy and sinking. Without thinking, he grabbed for it, his hands closing not over fins as he had first thought, but feathers. The Rito, far larger than him, kicked and struggled, unaware of what was happening, and scored him with long talons along his ribs. Blood laced the water and immediately he felt the cold like hornet stings. The suit was ripped and the fatally cold water was filling it. Unable to save the Rito and himself, he let go and struct out for the bank, gasping.

              He hauled himself out of the water, shaking uncontrollably. No one seemed to be paying him any attention now. The open wound in his side left a pink trail behind him and he felt as if he was going to faint. Head swimming, he staggered to his feet and looked around, trying to understand what he was seeing.

              The Yiga had met them man for man. Their canons were firing at the Rito with devastating accuracy and with horrible shrieks they plummeted to the ground, or worse, into the water. Some of them were calm enough to fluff up their feathers and remain buoyant, but most, taken by surprise, with wings irreparably ripped and broken by the laser canons, were being pulled under by their armour. The water was not a safe haven for the Zora as he had planned. A different kind of canon that glowed with a searing magenta light was focusing on individuals and Link saw the water around them steam and bubble within seconds, changing from freezing to scalding in impossible time. The Zora had no defence against this and leapt out of the river, their sleek scales turned angry red and pink, riddled with burns and vulnerable to the foot soldiers that engaged them thereafter.

              Link had never seen anything like them. Though Faceless and agile like the Yiga Clansmen he knew all too well, their silhouettes didn't make sense. He rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his blurred vision. They cast blue light on the snow with long guardian weapons, turning their red jumpsuits purple. Trenches had been dug at the foot of the mountainside, and they crouched in these. Something was affixed to their arms, short tubes that reminded him both of Sun's metal arm and Zelda's experimental weapon. It didn't take long for him to see what it was, as one Yiga fired three short laser pulses at the nearby Zora. Link watched in horror as the Zora was blasted apart, his corpse falling to the ground in pieces. He thought of what Zelda had said.

_Think what we can do to the walls of the plateau with this! And this is just the beginning. Picture an instrument like this, but small enough to hold in two hands without support, or even one hand._

              Unable to remain stationary, he raced along the bank and leapt into the nearest trench with a cry, taking the foot soldiers there by surprise. He had driven the Mastersword through one, the blade singing, but his opponents companion, who had been manning the canon, wheeled around to face him. He had expected to meet the Yiga sword to sickle, onto to find himself staring down the barrel of the miniature canon on her arm. Close to, he could see it was heavy, wrapped around her forearm and hand like a massive gauntlet, elongating it by an extra foot. It was no disposable weapon. It seemed as if it were welded onto her flesh, a permanent fixture. The laser went off in three powerful bursts, just as destructive as the guardians’ canons had always been, causing her to skid back several feet. He was quicker, however, experienced in dealing with such weaponry, though perhaps on not so small and dextrous a foe. He had hit the ground, covering his head with his hands, feeling the air above him pop with heat. Several metres behind him, the mountainside exploded, showering them in powered stone.

              He launched himself at the Yiga, but she disappeared in a flash of orange light and a flutter of spell tags, only to reappear behind him, laughing. Rage flooded his already adrenaline fuelled veins and he roared, spinning round in a swift dance like movement, snapping the fingers of his free right hand.

              Nothing happened.

              The Yiga snorted and levelled her weapon at him again. He realised what he had done a second too late and only just managed to avoid being ripped to shreds by throwing himself at her knees, barrelling into her and sending her aim skyward. He felt furious, humiliated, bereft and empty all at once. On top of the Yiga foot soldier, he drove the sword up under her chin until it broke through her skull, killing her instantly.

              Wrenching himself away, he skidded back into the trench and hurriedly examined the canon, trying to understand how to make it work. With a groan, he dragged it around so that it was facing directly across the river at the similar trenches and groups of soldiers. It seemed that great minds thought alike, he realised. The canon used exactly the same firing mechanism as Zelda's experimental one, only much larger and heavier. He pulled the lever and felt the machine hum as if alive. The red targeting line appeared ahead of him, and the turning mechanism was suddenly free. He could swing the canon any way he pleased. Bracing himself, he settled the laser where he wanted it to go just as the thrilling became a high-pitched scream and it exploded. A shaft of red light like concentrated lightning erupted from the end of the canon. He had just enough presence of mind to sweep it from left to right before it ran out of energy. The opposite bank lit up with a deafening blast that shook the ground and he was sure that he had taken out another one of their canons.

              Almost immediately multiple red dots raked over his torso, resting on his core. Every fibre of his being told him to flee, but he reversed the trigger lever and pulled it again, feeling the weapon spring back to life. Even from across the river, he could hear the whining beeps of the canons. He had just enough time. He could fire the weapon and then dive out of the way. He could sense the power building up. Any second now.

              Something hit him with enough force to throw him several feet away from the canon, and he rolled even further, pushed by what felt like a great wind as the world went white. There was a painful ringing in his ears which he thought was the sound of the canons at first. His limbs ached, the cut in his side biting. Blinking, he pushed himself up on his hands and knees with shaking arms and looked up. A dark figure with a white pointed head was crouching next to him, and it took several seconds for his muddled brain to recognised Teba. He must have swooped in and knocked him back before the canons had fired. The Rito was saying something, but he could hear it over the ringing. Wiping the blood out of his eyes, he staggered back down the trench, fully intending to fire back at the other canons, but he felt strong wings around his waist. Growling, he turned around, shaking his head, trying to sign that he wanted to keep fighting, but Teba was talking over him. Slowly, sound bled back into the world.

              "... need to go, Link. We're losing too many."

              _Call in my men!_ Link motioned, pushing himself away so that he could move clearly. _Where are they? They should have been called here by now._

"It's too late. They'd die if you -"

              _Send one of your men. It's time for them to strike!_

"I will do no such thing. We have to retreat!"

              That awful sound again, the trilling that grated at his nerves and the red spots on his body like a curse. Without hesitation, Teba leapt into the air, closing his talons around Links upper arms, digging in hard enough to hurt, before beating his powerful wings and soaring into the mist. Link struggled and felt his stomach disappear as he slipped, only to be caught again in a firmer grip. If he could speak, he would be demanding to be taken back, but all he could do was grit his teeth and try not to think of how high they were now.

              He saw something at the corner of his eye. It looked like a Rito, shimmering steel catching the light of the sun and almost blinding him. But Rito didn't wear metal armour. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the stinging wind. It was a scarlet blur until he realised what he was seeing. It was a clansman, flying or gliding on an updraft, his body elongated by two bat-like wings with metal frames connected with fabric. At first, he thought the wings were fixed to his arms, but when Teba rose so that they were directly above their pursuer, he could see that, just like the arm canons, these had been fused with the muscles of his back and could be folded and beat like the wings of some hideous angel. This allowed the Yiga to then twist in the air so he could point his arm up, directing his own miniature laser canon at him.

              Teba banked hard and released Link. He was falling, mist rush up to meet him. Disorientated, terrified, he flailed. He had been carried clear of the plateau, as he fell through the mists, he saw he was above water. How high had he been? A hundred feet? Two hundred? At this distance it didn't matter if he landed in water, or on solid rock. He didn't have time to brace for impact before he landed on something hard that grunted when they collided. Teba fell with him a little way before glancing off the surface of the lake and tilting up again, Link only just clinging to his back. Teba was swearing, lopsided. Several primary feathers on his left wing were cut short and smouldering, and it was everything he could do to remain airborne with Link on his back.

              It was only when they made it past the lake that he was able to land, and it was more of a controlled crash. The Rito tucked his wings, lowered his head and met the ground hard enough to throw Link over his shoulders, sending him tumbling over the dirt.

              Finally, he came to a stop. For a few long moments, he didn't move, feeling only a profound gratitude that he was back on the ground again. He had completely lost track of where he was. He could still hear the explosions and shouts from the plateau, but they were dim, carried on the wind from a great distance, almost inaudible. How far had they travelled? Slowly, without opening his eyes, he lifted himself into a sitting position. His head was swimming. He didn't think there was a single part of his body that wasn't burning with pain. Rito flight was far more intense than the gentle controlled gliding he was used to.

              "General?"

              Someone was speaking to him. He opened his eyes. He was in the Hylian camp that acted as the checkpoint between Gerudo and Central Hyrule. A captain he didn't recognise was speaking to him, and he allowed himself to be helped to his feet. Two other Hylian's were supporting Teba, who was limping, his long wing and tail feathers bent and badly damaged. There was no sign of the Yiga skysoldier.

              _Send word to the coliseum_ , he signed. _We need reinforcements at the plateau._ There was no time to waste.

              The captain saluted and was about to relay his orders when Teba interrupted. "No!" he cried. "Order a retreat. Our people are dying! We're far outnumbered and they're using weapons we've never seen before. Sending in more men will just add to the slaughter!"

              The captain hesitated and Link snarled at Teba, making angry cutting motions with his hands. _We can't give up now! We can still beat them!_

"Don't be foolish! We've lost! We have to retreat!"

              _No!_ Teba didn't understand. He couldn't possibly know what was at stake. He could not fail her, not again. It didn't matter if people died. It didn't even matter if he was killed, they _had_ to take the plateau. Retreat was not an option. To the captain, he signed; _Call in the Hylian soldiers, and hurry! That's an order!_

"Belay that order!"

              It was Zelda. Somewhere deep inside him, panic took hold and his hands began to shake, but all he could feel was fury. He rounded on her. _I can do this! Let me do this!_

She was staring at him, her eyes wide and trembling, as if she were seeing him for the first time. He felt all the strength leave his body and his legs buckled. His knees hit the ground and he seethed with desperate emotion that was somewhere between resentment, rage and despair. He felt eyes on him, not just Zelda's, but Teba's, the captain, soldiers who had come to see what the shouting was about. Zelda was talking, but he could barely hear it over the pounding in his ears.

              "Get a physician. He needs healing."

              "Your Majesty, should we send word to the soldiers at the coliseum?"

              "No. Not until we know more about the situation. Teba, what's happening?"

              "The Yiga were waiting for us, Your Majesty," Teba growled, wincing in pain. "They fired at us with advanced weapons. They're boiling the Zora alive in the river with heat rays, and blasting us out the sky with canons and skysoldiers. We have to order a retreat or lose every last one of our people."

              _No!_ Link tried to stand and failed, the wound in his side sending waves of agony through him, his exhausted limps screaming for rest. _If we send in reinforcements, we can still push them back. We were surprised, but we can still -_

Zelda had gone white, looking from Link to Teba. He had only ever seen her so afraid once before, and that was one hundred years ago. He turned to the captain. "Order a retreat," she said, her voice steady. "Report to Teba. Get as many people as you can to safety."

              The captain seemed relieved to have his orders and he bowed to Zelda, leaving to spread the word.

              _You idiot!_ Link was practically spitting with rage. _How dare you go above my head! I could have won this fight. But now all those lives lost will be in vain, and it's **your** fault, not mine! Those men have died for nothing! You've doomed us!_

Zelda froze, but it wasn't anger he saw in her eyes, or pain, or offense, but horror. "Link..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Where is the Mastersword?"

              It was as if she had opened him up and all the fury bled out of him, leaving behind only panic. He felt over his shoulder for the hilt of the sword and grasped nothing but air. His heart felt like it was being crushed by an icy fist. He had failed. There was no coming back from this. He had failed her one last time, and just as she had said, he had somehow relinquished his sword. He must have dropped it when in freefall, or left it beside him while he was firing the canon, but it felt like it had abandoned him. At this rate, the Yiga would have it. The reality of everything that had happened flooded him and something inside crumpled.

              _I'm so sorry..._ He wept. _I failed... I'm so sorry..._

 


	12. Apologies

Link stood at the window of his chambers, starting out into the swirling darkness without really seeing. They had returned to the Thyphlo Ruins and a stack of reports littered his desk, including the numbers of soldiers who had managed to evacuate the plateau safely, and underneath that, the list of the injured and the dead. He hadn't looked at that yet.

              Once a healer had been able to look at him, his own injuries had turned out to be far more extensive than he had first thought. Weakened from exposure to the cold water, he was recovering slower than he normally would and suffering from fatigue and dizziness. He had been instructed to forgo training and get as much rest as possible. Even without the healer’s orders, he would have remained in his chambers. He didn't want to face other people, and he didn't want to train. Not without his sword. The healer had peeled the Zora armour off him in tatters. He had received so many knocks and blows that it had shredded the delicate material, designed not so much for direct combat as for speed and grace underwater. It was currently being repaired by some of the best Zora armoursmiths in Hyrule, but he knew that the armour he would get back wouldn't be what Mipha had given him. He didn't know what was worse; losing the Mastersword, or losing his last connection to Mipha.

              There was a knock on the door.

              He didn't respond. Let them think he was sleeping, he thought. It came again, a few moments later and he scowled. _Not yet..._ _Let me stay here, hidden away a little while longer..._

The door opened. He turned, annoyed, wondering who would enter his chamber without permission.

              Zelda stood in the doorway, looking tired. Her face was pale, and there were dark shadows under her eyes. She wasn't wearing any of her graceful dresses, but a plain gown and a fur lined cloak that she wrapped around herself. Her hair was loose and spilling down her back. He was reminded of the time she had invited him to speak to her in the middle of the night, when she had talked about her nightmare. Remembering it made him realise that night might just have been the beginning of all of this.

              He stood, watching her. Without knowing what else to do, he waved to one of the chairs by his desk and she took that as an invitation. Closing the door behind her, she sat, and he waited. Being with her like this, in silence, was comforting, and he would have been happy to simply share the space with her, exist in their mutual depression. It was a long time before she spoke.

              "I did this," she said.      

              At first, he didn't understand her. He didn't respond.

              She inhaled, as if in meditation, and then sighed deeply. "It is time for me to shoulder the weight of what my decisions have done to Hyrule," she said. "Shortly, I will be taking reports from my captains and stewards, and I will have to hold the facts of those reports in my hands, and take responsibility for them."

              He mirrored her, exhaling long and low. In his own pain, he had forgotten what she was facing. He had the luxury of hiding away, of suffering his sorrow in solitude, away from the accusing eyes of the people he had hurt. She would be allowed no such mercy. He might be the general of her army, and he was responsible for the soldiers that followed him, but his one and only true concern was for her. She had to be safe. So long as she was alive and thriving, there was hope for him. Zelda, on the other hand, lived for her country and her people, and just as he had failed to live up to her demands, she had failed to protect them.

              He drew up a chair so that he could sit next to her and she reached for his hand. It was cold, smooth like marble. She wasn't crying, but her eyes looked red and sore, as if she had been rubbing them with her knuckles as she planned out the days meetings.

              "Everything's falling apart," she said, her head bowed. "It's only now that I understand why..."

              He waited, dipping his head so that he could catch her eyes, causing her to blink and look at him, smiling weakly.

              "Do you remember what happened when it all went wrong before?"

              He nodded. He didn't need to ask her what she was referring to.

              "When our weapons turned on us and everyone was dying in that field, and our friends were being destroyed... you grabbed my hand and we fled. Not because you were a coward," she added, in response to the slight tension in his hand, "but because you knew it was more important to live on, to give ground in order to continue the fight, so that their deaths would at least mean something. That's who you are. Where any other person would have looked in the face of that impossible decision and faltered, you always knew what to do. You didn't even need to think about it. The answer was always there, in your heart."

              He shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do with those gentle words. He didn't feel as if he deserved her assessment. There was nothing in his heart now but sorrow, and it clouded everything. There were no answers. He wished she wouldn't say any more, but she went on.

              "I always believed that if you held your ground it was because it was the right thing to do. But when you knelt in front of me, beaten and bleeding, begging me to let you go back to the fight, I knew I had made a terrible mistake. Somewhere along the line, I had twisted that thing inside you and for a moment I saw a glimpse of the corruption in my own heart in your eyes and I've never been so afraid..." At this, fresh tears lined her eyes, but she didn't break her gaze. "I should have trusted you when you refused to take up the weapons I made you. I should have understood what it meant when you took the hand of our enemy. If you had really believed that fighting was the right thing to do at that point, you would never have surrendered or attempted to make peace. I took your courage to be something other than a warrior and turned it against you. I have been so sure that it is up to us to reject the path that fate has laid out for us, but I was so adamant that I would not be the victim this time that I couldn't see it when you actually succeeded in doing what I always wanted. I've caused you so much confusion and pain..." She withdrew, covering her eyes with her hands and breathing deeply, trying to rub away the falling tears.

              There was a burning in his chest. When her hand left his, he felt an overwhelming urge to reach over and embrace her. Her pain was awful, and he would do anything he could to make her stop crying, but for the first time in as long as he could remember, it was a warm pain, a pain that made sense. Before, it was as if her heart was encased in ice, and now that the ice was melting, the first beats and tremors of that heart would feel like despair. He got out of his chair and held her, running his fingers through the golden strands of her hair, and feeling her shake against him and this time he knew that there was nothing between them. In reality, she had never left him, but the relief he felt as akin to reuniting with her after a long, bitter absence.

              Eventually she stilled. He kissed her forehead, unwilling to part from her just yet.

              "The meetings are not for a while yet," she said. "We still have a little bit of time." He understood that she was referring to more than her daily schedule. She sniffed, standing and running her fingers through her hair, gathering it behind her so that her face was clear. "There are some letters I need to write. I must respond to Riju... it's about time we talked about what's actually happening outside Gerudo. But there's also Sidon and Teba... and..." her jaw tightened. "And though it is pains me to say it, we'll have to re-examine Ganondorf's place in all of this. We can't stay here either. It's been too long since I've been in Hyrule Castle. I'll be letting the staff know that we'll be travelling shortly..."

              He just looked at her, grateful that she did not require a reply. He wouldn't have had the words.

             

              xxx

 

              The last time Ganondorf had been to Rito Village, he had allowed Sun to go ahead of him and do all the necessary trading and gathering of supplies. Despite his now officially sanctioned existence in Hyrule, it was difficult to shake the habit of avoiding hubs of people. He had expected more of the same hostile looks and mutterings that he had received from the Hylian inns and villages, but the Rito were more cordial. They still regarded him with curiosity, but they welcomed him, less interested in his status and more so in his displacement. There was, however, a slight chill to the air that had nothing to do with how far north they were. The atmosphere was deflated, subdued. Perches stood empty. There was something else missing that he couldn't pin down until he climbed the steps to the top of the village, passing by a canary coloured chick, alone and gazing silently across the lake far below that he realised what it was. There was no music.

              Much like the rest of Hyrule, Rito Village had been expanded to accommodate the rise in travellers and trade in peace time. There was now a kind of post office, which the locals referred to as _The Owlery_ , located just under the peak of the great pillar that served as the core of the village.

              He was speaking to a plain, tawny feathered male, asking how much it would cost to send something as far south as Gerudo.

              The hawk-like Rito shook his head. "I'm sorry, friend, we don't accept packages for Gerudo anymore. I sympathise though. Times are tough and all that, but we can't afford any _special_ business transactions since the defeat that Plateau."

              "It's not a transaction, it's a letter. For the Chief," he said, frowning. "What defeat?"

              "Wow, I thought you would know about that."

              "Not all news comes on the wing," he replied.

              The Rito didn't seem offended. "The Queen launched an attack on the plateau, tried to take it back from the Yiga. I wasn't there, but I heard it was awful. Teba said that they had these strange weapons that no one knew about until it was too late. We lost a lot of our people..."

              Ganondorf paled. "What kind of weapons? How many survived?"

              The Rito shrugged, unprepared for his questions. "I don't know... Their champion made it out alive I think but... I'm not sure of the details. If you want to know more, Teba only came back yesterday. I think I saw him down by the shrine. He was there, he can tell you everything."

              "Sarqso," he said, and he was just about to leave when a familiar black Rito swooped into the room through one of the long open windows.

              "Oh, hello there, big fella! I had the feeling that we'd run into each other again. Nuka - remember me?"

              "Ah..." Ganondorf paused, taken aback by the enthusiastic greeting. "Hello."

              Nuka turned to the tawny hawk, who was apparently the post master. "Got a letter for Teba." He waved a long slender canister and Ganondorf recognised the Royal seal.

              "I was going to go find him," he said tentatively. "I am told he's resting at the shrine."

              "Excellent, we could go together!"

              "Indeed..." he consented, though he would rather have shared a little less of his time with someone who referred to him candidly as "big fella". He was deeply thankful that he had left Farah at the stable. He didn't think she would ever let him forget it, even if she was more mature than her sister.              

              They did indeed find Teba near the foot of the village, sitting cross legged with his back to the shrine, looking outward. He didn't appear to be praying, but he didn't look like he wanted to be approached either. Nuka didn't seem to mind, and strode up to him, producing the message.

              "Thank you, Nuka. I'll fetch you if I need to compose a reply."

              Though he couldn't quite tell while Teba was sitting, he judged that the Rito was about as tall as he was, with large muscular shoulders to support great snowy, black tipped wings. He moved gingerly, and with his left wing tucked close to him. Ganondorf also noticed that his tail was hidden beneath him and recognised the efforts of a man who was trying not to draw attention to his serious injuries. Having delivered his letter, Nuka departed, giving Ganondorf a smile and a funny little salute.

              Teba hesitated, spotting him. "You're that male Gerudo, Ganondorf..." he said.

              He nodded.

              "What do you want?"

              Was it his imagination or did he hear a slight undertone of suspicion behind those words? Teba was not unknown to him. He had heard the stories about Calamity's End and had seen him at the festival three years ago. He had been the Rito Champion for the event, though they had not met formally. Looking back, he regretted his performance at the joust. It wasn't going to do him any favours now.

              "I wanted to ask you about what happened at the Plateau."

              Teba sighed. "Take a seat. I want to read this letter first."

              He did as he was told, sitting with his back against the railing that encased the platform they were on. Teba opened the canister and brought out the scroll, breaking the wax seal and unrolling it. His narrow yellow eyes, curiously similar to his own, scanned the parchment while Ganondorf waited. To his surprise, Teba broke the silence early.

              "You're Chief Riju's representative, aren't you?"

              Ganondorf eyed Teba for a moment before replying; "yes."

              "Do you know if she will be going to this council?"

              "Council?"

              Teba gave him a look as if trying to judge how much he should say. Eventually, he let out a breath. "Hell, it's not as if this one is secret. I've been invited to a council at Hyrule Castle, along with a few other significant individuals. The queen desires my presence, along with the Elder if he's up for the journey, Prince Sidon of the Zora..." He checked the scroll. "Boss Bludo of the Gorons... and Chief Riju... So, can you say if she will be attending?"

              "She will," he said, frowning. Nuka had not been carrying a message for him.

              As if reading his mind, Teba grunted, reading aloud from the parchment. "' _The current Yiga threat affects all who live in Hyrule, and therefore I am extending invitations to all the rulers of the land, including...'"_ He paused, skipping past the list of recipients to get to the bottom. "...' _and Chief Makeela Riju, along with any advisor, ambassador or representative she sees fit to accompany her...'_ I believe this is her way of inviting you without alarming anyone."

              "I would be attending regardless of the wording of the invitation. Chief Riju and I both have business with the queen," he said coldly.

              "Suit yourself."

              "Should we be travelling together?" he offered.

              "Farore, no! It'll take everyone weeks to travel to the castle on foot. I'll be using that time to recover and then travel on the wing the day preceding the council."

              Stung by Teba's derisive tone, he was nonetheless relieved. He was getting the feeling that the Rito warrior had little respect for him. Something caused him to linger, however. He was no longer so interested in asking about the Plateau. Teba had implied something with his words that was far more interesting to him that news of the growing conflict with the Yiga.

              "What do you mean...? When you said ' _this one'_?"

              It was impossible for him to tell if Teba had grown pale under his feathers, but a definite change came over the Rito's composure. The crest on the top of his head twitched and his eyes narrowed, his head tilted down so that Ganondorf couldn't see the possible downturn of his lip. After a long, grim silence, made worse by the lack of birdsong and chatter in the distance, Teba finally spoke. "I think it's clear that I don't trust you," he said. "But I don't have quite the same history with the Gerudo that the Hylians do. I saw your people suffering along with everyone else here and, at great risk to ourselves, we used our unique position to ease the tension of the situation. Even up here in Tabantha, we are affected by the wars that the queen indulges in. We saw our little trade arrangement with the South as a way of keeping things civil and under control."

              "For whatever it is worth, I thank you..." Ganondorf said in a tone of forced patience.

              "It's not worth much. From all accounts, you disappeared just as things got bad. What I'm trying to say is that while we are an ally of the crown, we are a friend to the Gerudo, which is why I'm not going to insult you by denying my little slip up just there."

              "But you're not going to elaborate."

              Teba game him a flat stare. "You said you have business with the queen," he said.

              "I do."

              "Then farewell, Ganondorf of the Gerudo. I expect we'll meet again at the castle."

              But Ganondorf had already gotten to his feet, and was heading to the bridge that connected the village to the rest of the world across Lake Totori, far below, his face neutral but struggling to contain his rising resentment.

             

              xxx

 

              Upon returning to the stable, he went in search of Farah so that he could tell her about the change of plans. He heard her voice coming from the other side of the building and made a beeline for her, only to hesitate when he heard what she was saying. Frowning, he waited just out of sight, feeling his heard beat a little harder than was perhaps warranted.

              "You're right, he's not so scary once you get to know him."

              A female voice responded and he felt the blood drain from his face. "Of course. Everyone takes one look at him and sees how big and strong he is and come to hasty conclusions. In reality, he's surprisingly gentle..."

              Even after all this time, he could never mistake that voice.

              "How long have you travelled with him?" Farah asked.

              "On and off for a few years now," Sun said. "But we go way back. I was only a girl when I first saw him. Even when I have to leave him behind, he always finds a way to get back to me."

              His heart was beating so hard now, he was amazed they couldn't hear it. He had never been in a situation like this where he could overhear a conversation about himself, and he was caught painfully between curiosity and anxiety, trapped between confronting them, walking away and staying there as long as he could get away with. Furthermore, both of them were speaking in unexpectedly soft and tender tones and despite his embarrassment, he was moved.

              "He is certainly one of a kind."

              "Indeed."

              "I could just run my hands through his hair forever..."

              Sun laughed, and it was the same sweet, girlish laugh that he remembered. "He loves the attention. He particularly likes it if you tickle him just..."

              Sun didn't get to finish her sentence. Mortified by where this conversation appeared to be heading, Ganondorf determined that it was time for him to make his appearance. Clearing his throat, he stepped around the corner and saw the two women standing on either side of a massive, gloriously familiar war horse, braiding its long scarlet fringe. Farah looked up to greet him, though Sun fell silent, focusing on her hands as if he hadn't just interrupted them. In light of the scene in front of him, their conversation took on a wildly different context and he flushed, feeling foolish.

              "Welcome back, Ganondorf," Farah smiled, but he only gave her a brief nod.

              "I see you've taken good care of Tilaq," he said in a low voice. Sun still didn't seem to want to look at him. He wanted to say more, but his mind was tangled in images of their last parting, the way she had looked down at him with empty eyes, backlit by a burning tree and glistening with water and blood. It was as if the air around them had become thick and difficult to breathe. Farah was looking from one to the other, either unaware of the tension between them, or unconcerned by it.

              "Did you manage to deliver the message?"

              It took him a little too long to answer, his eyes lingering on Sun. Close to, he realised that she had grown a little taller, shed a little of the roundness in her cheeks. Her hair had been styled differently and it made her look older still. Her prosthetic was sophisticated, as dextrous as it's organic counterpart, but imperfect. He could see the black lines on what was left of her bicep and he struggled not to look at it.

              "I'm happy..." he began.

              _To see you?_ That wasn't true. Seeing her in front of him, not looking at him, was like enduring insects crawling under his skin. It would be closer to the truth to say he was happy to see her alive, though that didn't quite express the confused mix of guilt and relief. _I'm happy to see you surviving_ was closer still, though perhaps 'happy' wasn't completely accurate. _I hope it doesn't hurt. It wasn't for nothing. I'll make sure it wasn't for nothing. It was awful what I made you do. And then I left you alone... I can't believe you survived. I would never have... I'm happy you were stronger than me._

"... that you're here."

              She didn't respond. He couldn't bear to speak again.

              "Vosha?"

              He cleared his throat. "I have received news," he said, turning back to Farah, trying to ignore how his words caught in his throat. "The Chief will be attending a council at Hyrule Castle. I will go to support her but... you don't need to come with me. Remember, your duty ended weeks ago. You don't have to continue to travel with me." He wasn't reminding her out of strict courtesy. He knew that Sun finding him like this was no co-incidence. The last time she had appeared out of nowhere, it had been to make him atone for his original betrayal. He had become comfortable among his new companions, relishing the opportunity to forge a new identity, free of the weight of his past - an opportunity only achieved through Sun's sacrifice, he knew. He had not been absolved of his debt. It had simply been transferred. Before, he had hoped that he could avoid discovery, that Sun would fade into obscurity, but now he saw how unfair that desire was. Sun didn't get to suffer in privacy. His mistakes marked her a hundred different ways, in the lack of lines around her eyes, in the white mark on her face where he had burned her, in her one good arm. There was no hiding for her. He could not expect her to afford him that privilege.

              "I will speak with Nadira when we meet up with everyone else," Farah was saying. He heard her as if through a dense fog, distant and muffled. "We will decide then."

              "Yes... Of course..."

              "Are we to leave right away?"

              "I think so."

              "Alright," she stretched. "Back on the road, I guess. If only there were a couple more horses like this one!"

              Sun smiled weakly, continuing to braid Tilaq's mane.

              "Farah, go ahead of me. It's been a long time since I've been able to speak with Sun... I'll catch up."

              Farah gave him a searching look, but he shook his head and she gave a little shrug, passing him by. He was once again thankful that he had brought he along and not anyone else. He could trust Farah to be discreet. When they were alone, he tilted his head towards a path that meandered away from the stable. It was a dirt track that eventually led back to the main road, not so heavily used since the reconstruction. She nodded and followed him, leading Tilaq beside her so that he was between her and Ganondorf.

              For a long time, neither of them spoke. The day was pleasant, and he could hear the buzz of dragonflies in the wind. Along the with rhythmic sounds of Tilaq's hooves, he let the original shock of seeing her settle in. Breathing in the summer air, he allowed himself to hold the complex mix of emotions in his heart, picking over them secretly. These were not new to him. Endless days and nights in that Empty Place with nothing but his thoughts and memories, he had infinite time to examine and re-examine what had happened between them. Seeing Sun had only made them livid again.

              "Why did you come to find me?" he asked.

              "I was at the Thyphlo Ruins."

              "I know. I saw you."

              "When Link let you go, I had to follow you."

              "Why?"

              Her voice was soft, neutral. He could read no emotion on it. "I don't believe that you're here to help anyone but yourself. If Link isn't going to be keeping an eye on you, I will. I know what you're capable of. It seems you have the Chief in your pocket again, and that means your cultivating power. I won't let you."

              "I understand," he said heavily.

              "So, you admit it?"

              "No. I only understand why you, of all people, would feel that way."

              She swore, the first emotive thing he had heard from her. He couldn't tell if it was directed at him. They continued to walk in silence for a time, before; "Why did you even bother coming back? No one wanted you here."

              "I was ready. I have a part to play yet in the future, and I'm going to have to be responsible for bringing balance to Hyrule. I realise that now..." Now that he was talking to her, the truth came easily.

              "Is this to do with all those stories you told me. About the triforce and how you were supposed to inherit the world or something?" There was a derisive edge to her voice.

              "Yes. And no. I was misinformed. My role is not that of destroyer, like the witches told me. It's more complex than that."

              "Could've fooled me," she growled. "You might be able to convince Link with your pretty words, your declaration of co-operation and balance, but you've never done a single thing for anyone else since the day you were born. Everyone was doing just fine before you came back, and now, when we need a gather together all our forces to combat the Yiga, you show up to disrupt everything and twist it all so that you come out on top."

              He didn't respond. He had been expecting this. Three years was a long time to nurture and cultivate hatred.

              "Well, now I'm going to be your shadow."

              "Does it hurt?" He asked.

              The question seemed to take her aback. While they had been walking, he had been unable to see her expression, but by the slow intake of breath, he thought he might have reached somewhere beyond her anger.

              "What do you care?" she hissed.

              "There's so much I wanted to say to you for so long," he said. "Before, I was too proud and ashamed to truly understand what you did for me. I might have lived the ten years I took from you, but I might as well have been the stupid teenager that left you behind."

              "Shut up, Gan," she whispered. He could hear the tears in her voice and he was amazed by how much it affected him. It was as if his chest was being shredded by claws. "I don't want to hear your false apologies."

              "I know. I'm not going to say I'm sorry. That's an insult to everything you've suffered. I wanted to thank you." He swallowed, letting out a shuddering sigh. "You saved my life. You didn't need to. If you believe I deserved to die, then, in truth, I do not disagree with you. I don't know why you did it. I treated you with nothing but contempt, used you, robbed you of much of your life, and yet because of you, I stand here now, not to make up for the damage I've caused - I can never do that - but to at least try to be something _else._ "

              "You can say all you want. Your words mean nothing to me."

              He fell silent. Several minutes passed.

              "Every day. It hurts every day."

              "I swear to you, Sun, I will live to prove that your bravery and sacrifice meant something. I will not throw away this chance the same way I threw away our life together."

              "You swore to me you loved me." Her voice was trembling. "You swore we'd be face everything together. You looked me in the eyes and you swore you'd never hurt me. You held my hand and _swore_ you'd come back for me. I can never believe a word you say."

              They had reached the main road and stopped.

              "I know that nothing short of my life would balance the scales between us. There is more I have to do before that happens. If you will be my shadow until then, so be it. I ask only that you let me finish what I came back to do."

              "You gave me no such luxury."

              "Then at least agree not to hurt my sisters or anyone. I did this. I alone forced this on you. Only I should have to face the consequences of my actions from now on."

              "Oh, don't worry Gan." She smiled, a twisted, grieved smile. "You don't get to pass the buck this time. I won't let you."

              He laid a hand on Tilaq's muzzle, and the beast dipped his head to meet his hand. "I am so grateful that you survived me. You deserved so much better. I only hope that my cowardice hasn't left permanent scars on you the way my violence has..."

              She didn't say anything. Her face dark and pensive, she mounted the great black horse and waited. He took her meaning and nodded, leaving her alone in the road, unmoving like a ghost, or a memorial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who has commented and who has talked to me about the fic, in particular The Authverlord and Thread6, who had offered their ideas and helped me clarify a few key details that have greatly helped me in constructing the story. You guys are awesome! 
> 
> I am also still seeking a beta to run a fine tooth come through both Memoria and Discordia. If anyone is interested, please don’t hesitate to send me a message! Any service you can offer would be greatly appreciated.


	13. Council

              Things were nowhere near back to normal, but there was a feeling throughout the castle that they were progressing. Perhaps it was the return to the steady pace of night and day, or the familiar busy rhythm, the changing of guards at the castle gate, the routine of organising the staff. Whatever it was, it felt like breaking through to fresh air after being buried alive, and everyone could sense it.

              There was still some pain, some weight on Link's shoulders, but he no longer felt hopeless. He enjoyed a greater degree of independence - something that Zelda encouraged - to make decisions and give orders. He no longer had to sign so slowly when giving orders to his captains as they gained more and more comprehension and soon, considering, organising and executing plans and strategies became second nature. In the weeks following their return, he put all his effort into training his soldiers. Along with intelligence from other veterans of what had now become known as the Dead River Massacre and his own experience, he described to Zelda in great detail what they were facing and she took that information to her new study. While he remained apprehensive when contemplating the concept of wielding such weapons as she would make himself, he put that at the back of his mind, reasoning that moral superiority was an inappropriate luxury when at war.

              It surprised him when Zelda presented her prototypes to him. Instead of drawing up plans for canons and similar weapons, she had chosen to work on a special kind of armour and shield. On her own, she had only the resources to make a single set, and Link, in a gesture of support, offered to be the one to test them.

              They set up the mounted laser canon she had constructed at the Thyphlo Ruins on the castle battlements, careful to position it so that it would fire harmlessly into the sky if it missed him. Link stood some distance away, rising a large shield. It was lighter than expected, but it was not for deflecting heavy objects such as arrows or swords. The shots from the canons, Zelda explained, were somehow weightless, made of pure energy or something like that. He hadn't been able to follow her exact words, but he trusted her enough to believe her. The idea was that the shield would completely absorb the blast. It was made of four arms that were linked with a web of blue energy, identical to the guardian shields he had used before, though this was large enough to cover his entire body. The armour he wore was similar to the set of guardian armour he owned, but treated so that it was especially resistant to heat. This was in response to the testimony of survivors who had succeeded in avoiding direct hits from the canons, only to have to contend with spreading fires.

              Despite his trust in her, he couldn't help but feel his heart pound as she levelled the canon at him. Taking a deep breath, he stood with his feet firmly apart and waited.

              "Are you ready?" Zelda called, her voice thin on the wind.

              He raised his fist and gave her a thumbs up, planting the shield on the ground at a slight tilt

              "Alright! Clear! Firing!"

              The canon lit up, the magenta energy pulsing, somewhat dimmed in the bright sunlight. The targeting light connected them like a strand of scarlet spider’s web and he exhaled, bowing his head beneath the lip of the shield and praying silently. The beeping flared into a shrill scream and then he heard the blast tear through the air like tissue paper. For a split second, the shield became noticeably hot, the panels of energy flaring a blinding white light. There was a disorientating buzz of heat and energy as the air crackled and sparked around him.

              Then nothing.

              Reluctantly, he lifted his head up so that he could see over the lip of the shield. Zelda was bouncing up and down, whooping with excitement. He looked at the outside of the shield, where the laser had hit it. There was no mark, nothing to indicate he had been hit at all. But Zelda was already running towards him.

              "Did you see that? Well, you wouldn't have, but it worked, Link! It worked!"

              Guards who had halted their patrols in order to observe the experiment were staring in delighted amazement, and a few of them applauded. He was still holding the shield, which had returned to its normal state, not so much as flickering despite the powerful force it had taken on.

 

              xxx

             

              "Yes... Just a little to the left. That's right," Zelda said, directing a couple of servants in the placement of an elegant chair. It was so large that two were needed to lift it. They were in a long chamber, lit by slender floor to ceiling windows, allowing afternoon sunlight to bathe the room, reflecting off the checkered marble floor. In the centre of the chamber was a table designed to comfortably seat six, each in their place, with a chair at the very end for the king or queen of Hyrule. Each position had been carefully considered, according to the respective influence and independence of the respective states of the country. This was how it had always been. The Queen would sit at the head, on her right-hand side the Chief of the Gerudo, on her left the King of the Zora, followed by the Rito Elder and the Goron Boss, and finally the Sheikah Elder sitting opposite the head. A given place at the table did not reflect on the status of the ruler, or the health of their nation, only their chosen relationship to the Crown of Hyrule. More than ten thousand years ago, the leaders of each people had chosen their seats, and their sons and daughters had taken their place in the centuries thereafter. It had been more than a hundred years since the last _official_ council had been held, and this would be the first time this room had been used since the fall of Hyrule. It had been Zelda's father who had hosted that one. Since Calamity's End, the castle had been going through extensive restoration, and the council chamber had been the final room to be completed.

              The chair that she was having the servants place now was to be Prince Sidon's, who would once again be representing his father as well as his people. Elder Kaneli had also declined her invitation, sending Teba in his place, as had Boss Bludo. These rulers were now extremely old, and no longer fit to travel. With Impa gone, the sheikah tribe in Kakarik0 Village estranged, and Zelda's summons ignored, the six and final seat at the table would be empty. There was a definite sense of being another step removed from the past. Apart from Link and Zelda, Sidon would be the only one present who would remember the Calamity, and from what she could infer from his letter, he would not be a prince for very much longer.

              "Your Majesty?"

              She looked up, pulled from her melancholic thoughts. A footman bowed. "The Rito warrior has arrived."

              "I see. I will go greet him. Fetch the General and have him wait for me here."

              "Yes, your Majesty."

             

              xxx

 

              Link entered the council chamber feeling awkward. He was still unused to attending meetings of this gravity. Military strategy was one thing, often discussed in small rooms or tents in the field. In the castle, he usually spoke with captains one to one, delegating tasks and overseeing training, rather than hosting formal meetings. He dimly remembered standing outside the doors of this chamber while Zelda - it had been Princess Zelda then - had attending these meetings with her father. The idea had been more for her to observe than to participate, but she had found her voice sooner than anyone expected and it hadn't been long before she was dealing with significant matters herself, though always with the King's guidance.

              He had been asked to wait while Zelda greeted the first of the council members. She had explained to him the significance of the event, all the traditions it called to, but the thought had occurred to him that the attendees might not remember their places. He turned away from the window he had been staring out of and walked around the table, touching the arm of a chair which had engraved in it the eye-like symbol of the Gerudo. With a jolt, he realised something. The way the table was arranged felt wrong. There was no seat for himself, or for Ganondorf, who would absolutely be attending. Link was no longer an appointed knight. Gone were the days where he would stand beside Zelda, or guarding the entrance. He was the General, and as such, it made no sense for him not to have a seat at the table, especially as they were going to be discussing the upcoming retaliation against the Yiga.

              He motioned over a servant, pointing at the table and making a sweeping motion with his hand as if to clear a room. The servant frowned at him for a moment before understanding his meaning and bowing low. Together, they shifted aside the formal chairs, carved with the national symbol of each of the six peoples of Hyrule and placed two more chairs on either side of the head of the table. Hands on hips, he reviewed his decision, hoping that he wasn't making a mistake. Just then, a footman came up to him.

              "General?"

              He met the man’s eyes, nodding.

              "Her Majesty sent me ahead to tell you that two more will be attending the council. Lady Purah and Lady Paya of the Sheikah have arrived, and they are to have a place at the table."

              Link smiled, elated. He liked Purah, and it had been too long since he had seen her. He wondered if she had aged, and decided that four years would have been long enough for her to grow into a more _adult_ form. He had the servant place a third additional seat at the end of the table. Everything was the same as it was, only he and Ganondorf would be at the right and left hand of the head of the table respectively, and Purah and Paya would share the opposing end, the sheikah holding the traditionally counter position to the crown. They hadn't expected anyone to represent the small community of Kakariko, but he was pleased by the surprise. It seemed fitting that _everyone_ should be there.

              Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he took his seat and waited. He caught himself thinking about the table, guessing and second guessing his additional placements. If only the table was _round_ , then he wouldn't have to worry about offending anyone. There was no time to change it, however. Zelda arrived, and behind her, the members of the council.

              The first six were blessedly familiar faces and he shot them smiles from across the room as they took their seats. Sidon took his proper chair, though seemed to hesitate when he realised he would be sitting beside Link. He was the only one who seemed to remember the traditions of the previous monarch, but instead of being offended, he appeared curious. Link noticed with a pang of regret the shining white patch that bleached the entire top half of the Zora's thigh, where the scales had been burned away. Sidon was not smiling. Teba, on the other hand, seemed to have recovered well, his feathers once again whole and sleek. He nodded at Link who acknowledged this greeting with a small wave. Purah, it turned out, had aged into a lithe and beautiful teenager, not quite a woman, but her eyes were as sharp and intelligent as her true age would imply. Paya, though a grown woman, took on the shy and reserved mannerisms of a teenager. She had her blush under control, but still seemed intimidated by a room full of such important people. To Link's further surprise and delight, Yunobo grinned and waved at him before taking his seat beside Paya, looking as excited to be here as she was nervous. Finally, Chief Riju met his eyes and he was somehow sad to see her grown, standing at eight feet tall, the roundness of childhood shed to reveal a delicate, angled visage. It reminded him how much time had passed since he had last seen her. She was the last of those he considered his friends.

              Ganondorf followed, only slightly taller than his Chief but seeming to tower over everything. He pulled out a seat for Riju, which she accepted, crossing her graceful legs. He then took the seat opposite Link and regarded him briefly before looking away, his face hard and inscrutable.

              Zelda had already taken her place. She hadn't commented on his alterations, but he could tell it had given her some pause, looking particularly uncomfortable to be sitting with Ganondorf on her left hand. Link, for his part, was struggling not to regret his decision, but now was not the time to harbour irrational suspicion. They whole point of this meeting was to settle scores, not foster new conflict.

              "Welcome," Zelda said. "Thank you, everyone, for coming."

              "I think we all knew to expect such an invitation," Sidon said, in a tone colder than Link had ever heard from him. He spotted Teba nodding in silent agreement.

              An uncomfortable silence fell after this.

              Zelda stood, her bowed face solemn, but determined, her hands on the table. "It was my understanding," she said, her voice still clear despite the tension he could see in her shoulders, “that there would be some grievances brought against me. Perhaps we should air them first, before we progress on the agenda."

              She raised her head, and though no one could say her expression was happy, it was composed, serene. There was no challenge in her words, no reproach. She extended her hands to the table, palms up, inviting them to speak.

              It was Teba who answered her invitation first.

              "Rito Village holds a population of three hundred, give or take. We pledged fifty warriors to your fight on the Plateau. _Three_ returned unscathed. Thirty-two did not return _at all."_

              "Of the one hundred and fifteen soldiers we pledged," Sidon said darkly, “we lost just over half, many of whom were cut down in a retreat that came too late. Only thirteen were lucky enough to escape without serious burns and other injuries."

              Link had read the reports. He already knew these figures, but hearing his friends say it aloud felt like finding out all over again. He hadn't been there. Teba's forced flight meant he hadn't been there to see the actual damage caused. Hanging his head, he remembered the last time he had been forced to flee, the friends he had lost then, and felt a fierce, selfish gratitude that the people he loved were all sitting at this table with him. He didn't think he'd have the strength to face this if it had been someone other than Sidon and Teba representing their people.

              "I am deeply grieved by your loss, _our_ loss," Zelda said heavily.

              "There were no Hylian casualties." Sidon said this in a soft, gentle voice. It was not an accusation, but Link felt the blame in it nonetheless. He had been waiting for this to come up, was well aware of how it looked.

              Zelda let the statement sit between them, meeting Sidon's eyes. He didn't look away. "You know why I ordered the retreat," she said. Like him, she wasn't laying down an accusation, but rather inviting him to understand. There was no reversing her failure, and she was prepared to shoulder the burden of that guilt in its totality. Even though it had been Link who had come up with the plan, who had ordered its execution, she had been the one to authorise it, to give him that ultimate power.

              Sidon's lips drew back in a grimace and he looked away. "I know," he said.

              Teba watched this exchange with dark, grim eyes, his face carefully controlled. She turned to him. "I need the military might of the Zora. They are formidable soldiers and they are crucial to defeating the Yiga," she said. "But the Rito need not fight again. I will not call on your warriors a second time."

              "All fifteen of them," he said, and Link's head dipped a little lower.

              Zelda's composure did not slip. "There is some other service that I would ask of your people."

              "Like pawns on a chessboard."

              This had been Ganondorf. Everyone turned to look at him. He didn't show any signs that he was unnerved by the attention, but was watching Zelda, his sharp yellow eyes regarding her with something like curiosity, but closer to contempt.

              "Excuse me?"

              "I believe Ganondorf is trying to imply that if you are the player, then by extension, we are the pieces," Riju said. "Which raises the question; what right do you actually have to command the Zora, or dismiss the Rito?"

              Zelda stared at Riju, growing a shade paler. Link looked up, shocked. Even Ganondorf had raised his eyebrows at Riju, surprised by her blatant challenge.

              "My right of birth," Zelda said, incredulous. "And divine right. I am sovereign Queen of Hyrule. You, all of you, are people of Hyrule."

              "All of us survived the dark days of the Calamity - no, we have all _thrived._ Our respective nations were at peace while Ganon slept in the castle. Some of us, the Gerudo, and the Sheikah in particular, have expanded and stabilized outside the influence of the Royal Family. Exiles and outcasts, the two of us now have living, breathing communities, something we might not have had under Hylian rule. It is only with Link's awakening and Calamity's End that we once again see war on our lands."

              "What are you saying?" Zelda said.

              Link felt suddenly angry. _Are you suggesting that Ganon was not a threat to the whole world? That the Yiga are not now the enemy of all our peoples? If it was not for Zelda, you would not have travelled here on safe paved roads, and you would not be sitting in this beautiful hall._

Zelda was already translating for him, adding words of her own. "And please do not forget - Ganon did not _sleep_. It was I, holding him at bay for a century so that your peoples could build your towns and remain at peace!"

              A small voice at the end of the table spoke up amid the rising tension. It was Paya, who was no longer looking at her knees, her face set. "We are grateful," she said. "Impa and I prayed for you every day. We hold you in great esteem. You and Link are honoured heroes..." She swallowed, taking a deep breath. "And for that you will be remembered in our history forever. But it was your family that banished our people, despite our loyalty and service. We have no desire for revenge, or even compensation, only that we retain our independence to make our own decisions. We will always stand with you against evil, but as friends, not as subjects."

              "Well put Paya," Purah said encouragingly, and Paya’s cheeks flared.

              This seemed to cool the atmosphere between everyone. Zelda resumed her seat, her face once again taking on a serene quality. When she next spoke, her anger had melted away. "Do you all feel this way?"

              There was a pause, and then, one by one, each of them murmured their ascent.

              "I have neglected," she said, her eyes on the table, "to truly voice my gratitude for your strength in my absence. After Calamity's End, I wandered through the ruins of Castle Town, wept in the blackened broken shell of my home and despaired at how I could ever restore the beauty that Hyrule once had. However, when I left to meet with you, Prince Sidon, and with you, Riju, I saw a land that was lush and vibrant, people who were healthy and happy. Each and every one of you have been wise and stalwart stewards of Hyrule. It was the Gorons who helped rebuild the castle and the towns of Central Hyrule. It was the Gerudo who cleared our roads and invigorated our economy."

              She addressed Ganondorf directly. "You say that I am a player directing pieces, but that is not my goal. I am not here to reclaim anything, but to protect our mutual home and ensure its prosperity."

              He tilted his head towards her in a gesture of respect, and she seemed satisfied.

              "I have considered this for a long time," she continued. "Contrary to what you might believe, I have asked myself that same question more than once since Calamity's End. Hyrule is facing an incredible upheaval. We are in the infant stages of a new era. Each age behind us rose and fell. It seems as if we read through the story of our land, and when it comes to the end, we close the book and instead of starting a new one, we turn it over and begin again, repeating the same history over and over... Perhaps it _is_ time for the balance of power to shift."

              She took a breath. "The monarchs of each of our lands cannot split their hearts between their own people and the Kingdom of Hyrule. So they should not. I will be the first to set an example. On behalf of the Goddess Hylia, I will retain my role of High Queen of Hyrule, but as a servant, not a dictator. Link will be my representative, my General and Ambassador. Now removed, I have no motivation or bias to favour one nation over another, only to serve all."

              Zelda stood, stepped away from her seat, and bowed to all at the table. Link stared at her, his heart beating uncomfortably hard. Did she realise the responsibility she had laid out in front of him? But then, what was he if not a protector of Hyrule, the last survivor of five Champions chosen to stand for all that was good? Anxiety was replaced with determination. He wasn't going to fail her again.

              Chief Riju was the first to imitate Zelda. She stood, placing her hand on Ganondorf's shoulder. "I nominate Ganondorf to represent the Gerudo," she said. He blinked, catching her eye as she walked past him, and Link wondered if he saw the same momentary apprehension, the fleeting question, before the resounding internal answer.

              Purah stood. "I have been taking care of the village after my sister died. It's been enough of a hassle trying to make everything run smoothly. I'm not much of a spiritual and cultural figurehead, but until we find a new Elder, Paya will be our representative."

              Paya had a stiff, frozen expression of someone being led to the gallows, but she nodded grimly. Apparently she had been mentally preparing herself for this all afternoon. In an attempt to embolden her, Zelda smiled warmly, but this only resulted in Paya sinking so far down in her chair that Purah had to nudge her back up.

              "I will not ask Sidon, Teba or Yunobo to stand. We already recognise you as representatives of your leaders. We can officially designate you at a later date, but as they are not here to speak, we can assume that by sending you, they have granted you power to speak for them in all matters, including this one. Unless any of you would like to nominate someone else?"

              They shook their heads

              Riju and Purah had joined Zelda at the end of the table. Riju touched Zelda's arm and said; "Let's leave them to their business. I trust they will make the right decisions, and I know that we have much to talk about, too much to cover in a meeting like this. Shall we walk together?"

              Zelda seemed reluctant to leave the table, and glanced at Link before turning to her once friend and ally. "Yes... of course."

              She took one last look at the table, and the people sitting at it, her chest rising in a deep breath, which she exhaled, giving an almost imperceptible nod as if to say; _yes, this is right._

             

 


	14. Friends

              Ganondorf sat at one of the long tables in the castle library, reading through the report an aid had handed him a few moments ago. It was a letter from Riju, detailing the relevant parts of the conversation between herself and the queen. In honesty, he was taken aback by the promises of extensive change for not just his people, but all the people of Hyrule. He had expected it to be a long and arduous road of argument, debate and demanding before he saw any real progress. However, while he could tell the other council members considered him an oddity, they treated his input with as much respect as anyone else. While he had been negotiating the Gerudo's place in the upcoming battle, Riju had been advocating for their people directly to the queen. What he had first dismissed as two friends reconnecting, he was now learning had been a long overdue and deeply significant exchange that would be resulting in an almost immediate improvement to the living conditions of his people. Young as she might be, she was a far more graceful and effective leader than he had over known, historically or otherwise.

              For the Gerudo, Zelda had sworn to investigate the abuses of power taking place, making immediate moves to neutralise the canyon pass and allow for free movement between Gerudo and Central Hyrule. Recognising that discriminatory trade law had resulted in desperate conditions and a rise in crime, these laws were to be withdrawn. Any Gerudo who had been wrongfully arrested were to be released, and any offending Hylian officer who had taken advantage of his or her position where to be replaced. None of this was going to happen overnight, but the process had been started, and there was every sign that Zelda would follow through on her promises. In exchange, their friendship and alliance would be renewed. A treaty would be signed, pledging military support in the upcoming fight with the Yiga. All this, Riju had negotiated in an evening while he had been working with the other representatives.

              In regards to the war, they had constructed a plan of action. Link had impressed them all with demonstrations of the new armour that Zelda had constructed, and it was agreed that the scientists of the Sheikah would replicate enough to outfit an army, aided by the master craftswomen and enchanters of the Gerudo. Zora armour that was resistant to boiling and freezing water, as well as plates laced with Sheikah magic designed to absorb energy blasts from canons and branching arrows that split mid-air to hit multiple targets, would put them on equal terms with the Yiga foot- and sky-soldiers. The Rito and the Gorons had chosen not to contribute with men, but with resources. While the crowns treasury had been pouring funds into the feeding and arming Hylian soldiers, money had been diverted from civilian towns and farms, leading the working people of Hyrule to shoulder the burden of the army. This was going to change. There was more than enough wealth to divide evenly and with the Gorons supplying ash from their mountain as fertilizer, as well as teaching the Hylians how to fortify their crops against almost anything, and the Rito acting as high-speed couriers to deliver aid to the furthest corners of the land in a matter of days, the food shortages that had now become commonplace would come to an end. The Gorons, in particular, had stumbled upon impressive agricultural technology, producing strong harvests and allowing more work to be done by less people.

              After all this had been settled, the matter of invading the Plateau was considered. This was where he had shared his knowledge of the Yiga plot. According to the records and journals he had retrieved from their hideout, in the chaos directly following the defeat of Calamity Ganon, the Yiga had broken into the sanctum of Hyrule Castle and found, amid the twisted remains of the monster, Ganon's skull. They had taken this, and intended to use it as a kind of vessel to gather and hold the lingering power and Malice that had bled into the world after his defeat. All this he understood implicitly, though he struggled to express the mechanics of the magic in words. The journals had expressed a unanimous disappointment in Ganon as a physical sentient being, and instead spoke about harnessing the sheer force of the spirit to unleash terrible destruction.

              "They truly believe that the only way to end the cycle is to bring about the destruction of the world, as was Ganon's ultimate goal," he explained to the grim-faced councillors. To his surprise, he was aided in this explanation by the Sheikah girl, Paya, who did a better job of laying out the history for Yunobo and Teba, who were not so well versed in ancient myths and legends.

              However, he did have an answer. Link spread out an old, cracked map of Hyrule that looked as if it dated back to before the Calamity, and he used it as a reference as he relayed knowledge of the land that had come from his days of exploration and hiding. "There is a passage," he said, pointing at Hyrule Castle, "that leads from the dungeons of this castle to the Temple of Time on the Plateau. I have been unable to travel the whole length of the tunnel, but we need not move troops from beginning to end. There is an opening here." He pointed at the Forest of Time. "It opens out again via a staircase that leads to the back of the main hall of the temple, behind the statue of Hylia."

              There was no way the Yiga would see them coming. As far as he knew, no one else knew about this secret passage, and it was something he had kept closely guarded until now. In reality, it was part of a network of tunnels that had led to secret Sheikah caches and libraries. Not even Paya knew about them, though her eyes lit up with wonder as he described the books he had found there.

              All that was left to do was to rally the soldiers. This time, their numbers would be bolstered by Gerudo warriors under Ganondorf's command, and this emboldened Prince Sidon to once again pledge soldiers to the fight, despite their original defeat. The meeting ended well past midnight, but everyone had left it in high spirits.

              He had been shown to his rooms by a servant, and was relieved to be sleeping indoors once again. Despite the necessity of rough living for most of his life, he looked forward to a time when he could finally leave that behind him for good. He was not entirely prepared for rich living, however, as he was woken in the morning by Hylian servants pottering about his fireplace. Alarmed that someone was in his room, he roared at them to get out and they scurried away, terrified. He felt rather stupid when he examined the fireplace and saw they were they only trying to light it. Grumbling, he lifted a fire from the coals on his own and dressed, before he received another visitor. This was a Hylian woman dressed in a uniform emblazoned with the Royal crest. She told him that she was very sorry that the servants had startled him, that they had only been there to warm the room, but in a firm, polite tone that implied that she was really there to warn him off terrorizing the staff.

              Feeling thoroughly embarrassed, he had spent the rest of the morning in the library. It was now afternoon and he was exploring the castle. To his surprise, a servant had already offered to bring him lunch, which he accepted. He wondered if the other representatives were being treated with the same courtesy. From a balcony, he spotted the Sheikah girl picnicking in the inner gardens, admiring the butterflies while she ate what looked like sushi. When he was brought his lunch, it consisted of spiced bread and meats. It seemed that for lack of specific instructions, they had simply brought him food that wouldn't look out of place in his homeland. It had been in an effort to make him comfortable, but instead it made him uneasy. Would they have brought him _anything_ he asked for? He supposed, given his position, that he should get used to having underlings, servants and footmen, and maybe he might have, in another life. As it was, he thought it was stuffy and strangely old fashioned.

              Something else troubled him. It hovered over him like bad air, and he had a feeling in his gut that it wasn't going to dissipate unless he cleared it himself.

              He found Link in the training courtyard. He was watching soldiers drill. As Ganondorf looked on, he stood and approached a pair who had been sparring, taking the shield from one of them and demonstrating the correct form, before returning it to the soldier, who appeared to thank him by making touching his chin. Smiling, Link signed something in response and the recruit nodded. He must be teaching all his soldiers his sign language, Ganondorf realised. Mute soldiers would be quite the battlefield advantage.

 

              xxx

 

              Link became aware that Ganondorf was watching him before he actually saw him and did his best not to let it distract him. He still felt oddly defensive when sharing a space with him, and without the Mastersword, he felt doubly exposed. When the Gerudo sat down on the same bench overlooking the courtyard, he could no longer ignore him. He gave him a sidelong glance and a thin smile that was little more than drawing his lips into a thin line.

              After a while, Ganondorf cleared his throat. "You've done well, Champion," he said. "These are good soldiers. You should be proud... "

              Link remained motionless. He had never really considered whether or not he was good or bad at anything. There was only what felt right. But looking at the sparring pairs through Ganondorf's eyes, he considered how far he had come. If he could go back to that resolute young man who had stood at the gates of this castle, trembling with fear and determination, would he have believed that in just a handful of years, he would be commanding an army, knocking shoulders with the rulers of the land, making peace with his ancestral enemy?

              "I notice that you don't have your sword. I've never seen you without it."

              He felt his throat tightening and his eyes stayed fixed straight ahead of him.

              "Did you lose it? I'm sorry..." A pause. "You might be without it now, but I can sense that you are more... complete than the last time we met."

              What a strange thing to say. Was he more "complete"? He felt stronger, certainly. Where he had been lost before, he felt purposeful. Perhaps he had been missing something. He looked at Ganondorf, peering at him. He sat, leaning forward, wrists resting on his knees, watching the sparring recruits. Now that he had the time to really examine him, he realised how unremarkable he was. There were a few unique qualities to him, most notably his eyes, but there was a lot that he recognised. He had the sloped forehead, prominent nose and dark skin typical of his race, though his hair was more the colour of rust than fire. He didn't have Urbosa's beauty, though there was something in his broad shoulders that reminded him of her. Nor did he have Sun's graceful, cat-like posture, but there was something of her pride in the way he held himself. He was both eerily familiar and shockingly _normal_.

              Eventually, he touched his chin in an open-handed gesture.

              Ganondorf caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. "This," he copied the movement, "means... thank you?"

              Link nodded.

              Ganondorf turned back to the courtyard. "I've been wanting to speak with you, to ask you something," he said.

              Curiosity growing, he waited.

              "You fought with Lady Urbosa?"

              He nodded again.

              "What was she like?"

              Link stared at him. It was such an open-ended question, and he had no real way to communicate the answer to him. Thinking hard, he grimaced, before making a motion as if he were warming his hands by a fire.

              "Warm?"

              He shook his head, making a lifting motion.

              "Hot? Fiery?"

              He nodded, and Ganondorf chucked. He then held up a finger before placing his hand on his heart

              "But she was kind, warm-hearted."

              His smiled in confirmation, tracing an hourglass figure in the air with both hands and then holding his forearm in front of him, holding an invisible shield and scimitar.

              "Beautiful. A fierce warrior," Ganondorf translated, an honest smile breaking across his face. The effect made him appear suddenly younger. "Thank you. I wish I could have met her..."

              _She wouldn't have liked you,_ he thought, though he kept that to himself.

              A comfortable silence fell between them. Knowing he admired Urbosa added another layer of mundanity to him that made him feel more at ease. Here, in the bright sunlit courtyard, it was easy to see him as unthreatening, even personable.

              "There is something else I wanted to ask you, something I wanted you to do for me."

              This surprised him. He tilted his head, listening.

              "A long time ago," he began, looking oddly anxious, shifty even, "I made a mistake. I... Well I took something from a powerful spirit that I had no right to. I have tried more than once to return it, but when I go to the home of this spirit, all I feel is emptiness and silence. My transgression was so great that I can never reverse it, or atone for it. I have heard stories of how the spirits speak to you and aid you, how you are welcome in their forests and homes. I am sure that if you were to return this thing, then it can be made right again."

              He frowned. Whatever he had expected, it was not this. He made a movement as if to beckon, inviting him to elaborate.

              Ganondorf sighed. "It is a mask of great magic and power..."

              Link shivered. Masks were indeed powerful and sacred items, not things to be tampered with. But one did not simply pick up a spirit's mask and walk away with it. Masks of the kind that Ganondorf was talking about were usually created when a spirit was dying, as a last plea or promise to fulfil unfinished business in the physical realm. Suddenly the courtyard was not so warm, despite the sunlight. He hadn't made it sound as if he had merely stumbled upon a dying spirit.

              "The mask of the Lord of the Mountain."

              Link actually felt his mouth fall open. He leaned back, tilting his head up and covering his eyes with one hand as if he had a headache, feeling something cold and heavy sink into his stomach. He remembered hearing about the Lord of the Mountain from travellers who had passed by Satori Mountain. They had talked about a supernatural glow coming from the grove on the side of the mountain, about how it used to make them afraid, but whenever the subject was brought up, they all said the same thing. It hadn't been seen for years now, and for some strange reason, its absence made them feel sad and alone. He had even investigated the grove, searching for clues as to why the spirit had disappeared. And all this time, it had been...

              He let his hand fall and gave Ganondorf a dark look.

              "I know it was wrong," he said. "It's the worst... one of the worst things I've ever done."

              Link exhaled in a low whistle. This was no small thing. What Ganondorf implied filled him with sadness. If he had asked him to help cover it up, or to keep it a secret, then he would have outright refused. As it was, he was asking for help in putting it right. Slowly, after a long time, he nodded.

              "Thank you."

              Link extended his hands towards him, palmed up, eyebrows raised in a question.

              "I don't have it with me. It was lost. After all this is over, I can help you find it. But it can't be me who returns it."

              That meant he could put it from his mind for now. Despite the gravity of the request, he couldn't bring himself to be too horrified. It was, after all, what he did. Put things back, make things right. He had no idea how he would go about summoning what was left of the spirit, but all he needed to do was ask for help. There was always help to be had. The sheikah elders, the great fairies, even the mysterious dragons would speak to him if he asked politely enough. He met Ganondorf's eyes and nodded his understanding, trying his best to smile reassuringly.

              Ganondorf didn't smile, but he sighed and the lines left his face. "If there is anything I can do for you, please, don't hesitate to find me."

              There was only one thing that he considered really important now. He pointed at Ganondrof's sword, giving him a solemn look that he hoped conveyed his meaning. _Take up arms. Fight with us._

              Seeming to understand, Ganondorf stood. "I'll be there," he vowed, and departed.

 

              xxx

 

              To his surprise, she found him.

              The great hall and throne room of the castle was empty, and this is where his exploration took him. He had been wandering about the castle as if it were a museum, examining the paintings, the windows, the hallways, all the time feeling as if he were on the cusp of remembering something. The new masonry was built on top of the ruins, and every now and again he would see evidence of what it had been, cracked with decay and Malice and the sheer age of the place impressed itself on him. This castle wasn't one hundred or one thousand years old, but tens of thousands. This was only the latest iteration with the previous one only just painted over and beneath that the dust of a time before and a time before that.

              The throne itself was modest, smaller than he had imagined. Running his fingers alone one arm, he circled it, standing behind it and facing out into the hall. That was when he saw her, watching him. He stepped back around, sweeping his cloak behind him and bowing.

              "Your Majesty."

              "Come to admire it, Ganondorf?"

              "Only to admire."

              She was gazing at him with a cold, impenetrable expression. If there had been accusation in those verdant eyes, it had been so fleeting that he was left with only the question that it had been there at all. She was dressed in simple white, though with the way she carried herself, the way the dress draped her slender shoulders, she looked just like the statues of the Goddesses he had seen in temples.

              She walked towards him, stopping a few feet shy. He watched her silently as she continued to examine him, trying to ignore the sensation of being appraised. Finally, she spoke.

              "What makes this time any different?"

              For a moment, he couldn't quite grasp what she meant. It was as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. He considered the question, turned it over in his mind, compared it to the similar questions he had once asked himself.

              "This time," he said, "I know that power is only self-consuming without the temperance of wisdom or the selflessness of courage."

              "You mean Link and I."

              "I do."

              "I struggle to tolerate you in my castle. Your very presence, the way you stand between me and that throne makes my heart burn with rage. You symbolise the greatest threat to my family since the Goddesses themselves walked Hyrule."

              He could see it in her eyes, the way they narrowed, the disgust in her voice, and he fought with himself for a moment, trying to stay calm, trying to see it through her eyes. This blame that she was laying at his feet did not belong to him, was not even really aimed at him. But it was his _responsibility_ to be something other than what she expected. He took a step closer to her.

              "Your Majesty. Zelda. I cannot undo what has been done to your family, to your mothers and grandmothers. The most I can do is honour them by recognising their pain and also their victories. You _are_ the true Queen of Hyrule. That throne belongs to you. Every man or beast that has tried to take it from you has been vanquished, time and time again, right back to when the Demon King, Demise himself was defeated by the Goddess Hylia. This time, I do not seek this power, for I know it brings ruin, and not for you. Any suffering I could ever cause you would only be temporary, whereas my downfall would not only be inevitable but absolute. The power I do seek, the power to defend the freedom of my people, has been granted me. Now, I desire only to end the cycle, a desire that we share."

              "Would I ever know peace while you live?" she asked.

              "I am at peace," he said, and he meant it. "I do not crave what you have, nor do I fear your hero." He laughed dryly, and Zelda glared at him. "Forgive me, only there is a sword that was literally created to be my bane. Given the power I hold inside me, I don't doubt that its rightful owner might be the only one who could defeat me. But I am not afraid. I have hope that one day I might count him among my friends."

              Zelda simply looked at him, fear and confusion melting through the cold exterior.

              "What I am trying to say," he sighed. "Is that you need to find the peace within you. I cannot give it to you. No one can. I can only step aside." And he did this, moving away from the throne so that she had an uninterrupted path to it.

              After a pause, she stepped past him, and he could see her hands were balled into fists. She only relaxed again once she stood beside the throne, her hand on the arm.

              "I will not kneel before you," he said. "Enough usurpers, traitors and tyrants have knelt before the Kings and Queens of Hyrule for that gesture to be rendered meaningless. Only know that while this worlds triforce remains intact, I stand beside you in the fight against chaos."

              When she spoke again, there was no longer any bitterness in her voice. "I am willing to stand with you," she said. "I am willing to let you stay here, to accept your right to freedom and to consider your value. But I cannot believe you won't betray that trust..."

              His heart sank, and he felt his shoulders sag as if under a heavy weight.

              She shook her head. "No. I misspoke. I cannot _yet_ believe that you won't betray that trust."

              His spirit leapt. "That's all I need."

              "Now, I as much as I hate to be rude, I must ask you to leave me. I... I have a lot to think about."

              "Of course," he said, his face splitting into a smile. "Thank you."

              "Farewell, Ganondorf."

              "Sav'orr, Zelda."

              It wasn't much. To another man it would have been nothing, but to him, it was _something_. It was as if he had broken through a glass wall. The window had been shattered, and now it was possible to rearrange the pieces, put it back together to form a story where they were not enemies. He departed the great hall feeling more hopeful that he could ever remember feeling. He caught himself smiling. It was too early for him to return to his chamber, and the dusk air was warm and inviting. He had not yet explored the battlements, he reasoned. So, with a slight spring in his step, he found a door that led out into the open air and discovered a stretch that was away from any guards on duty, and admired the view of Castle Town, while a slight breeze tugged at his hair and cloak.

              That was when he heard Sun's voice behind him.

              "Been making friends, have we?"

 


	15. Fight

           He leapt to his feet as if he had been stung and turned toward the sound of her voice, blood rushing to his face. He had been doing nothing wrong, but in her presence, he felt inexplicably anxious as if he had been caught in some nefarious act. Making a conscious effort to keep his breath measured and his heart rate under control, he watched her warily.

           "Sav'saaba eisha." It was the first time he had called her that since they first met at the jousting match. Coming from him, the usually familiar epithet was made cold and formal.

           "What do they call you now?" she said, her expression dark. "'Vosha'?"

           "I didn't ask them to call me that," he said, almost automatically. He didn’t know why he felt the need to explain this, only that the way she was looking at him made him feel awkward and a little ashamed. Just as 'eisha' had been stony on his lips, 'vosha' sounded somehow mocking and ridiculous on hers.

           "You've been very busy since we last spoke," she said.

           He didn't respond, growing more and more suspicious. Why had she come up here to speak to him? Why had she felt the need to sneak up on him like that? He supposed this is what she had meant when she said she would be following him, keeping a close eye on him.

           "Attending official councils, hanging out with the Hylian General, getting close to the Queen herself..." she continued.

           "How have you been spying on me?" he asked. He had not seen her or sensed her presence the whole time he had been here. The fact that she could relay back to him his movements that day alarmed him. He became aware that she was armed, dressed in light leather armour, her form obscured by a dark cloak that melted into the coming night, hiding her metal arm.

           "It's not so difficult. With you and the Chief here, the guards expect there to be one or two Gerudo walking around. They think I'm one of her retinue. I just need to make sure that I say out of the Queen's way. The last time she saw me, she accused me of being your spy."

           He stared at her, struggling to comprehend what she was saying.

           "Oh, don't be so surprised," she said. "It's not that farfetched. I don't blame her, really."

           "How long is this going to go on, Sun?" he asked, his mouth dry.

           "As long as it takes for me to figure out what you're up to and stop you from doing it."

           "Do you want to know what I'm up to?" he hissed. "I've been helping to plan for the war with the Yiga on Riju's behalf. I've been tying up a few loose ends. I had a favour to ask the General, and it is only appropriate that I speak to the Queen, given than I am now my country’s ambassador and a member of her council. Other than that, I've been resting. Do you want to know what I'll be having for supper tonight as well?"

           "Evil men eat and sleep, Gan," she said, her face unchanging. "It still bewilders me how you managed to worm your way onto an important council, but it doesn't surprise me that you'd be cosying up to the queen and those close to her. What favours are you laying the groundwork for?"

           He couldn't believe that she was asking him this. "Riju elected me," he said, his voice not rising above a low growl, but becoming exasperated, a little desperate. "Did you not hear? I destroyed a large and significant Yiga hideout for her, I succeeded in delivering an essential message and bridging the gap between Gerudo and Hyrule."

           "Don't pretend you did it for her. You did it for yourself, so that you could garner her favour."

           He sighed, his patience wearing thin. "Let's stop this. You and I both know that there is nothing I can say to convince you that I'm here for something other than my own selfish machinations."

           "You're right. Your word means nothing to me."

           "Then what can I _do_?"

           He hadn't so much aimed this question at her as uttered it aloud to the night. It hung between them while she looked out towards the castle courtyard, her face pensive. This was the paradox he found himself in. He could blame the hand he had been dealt, his past, his childhood, his loneliness and desperation, but it didn't change the truth. He had played that hand so profoundly wrong that he would be fighting this losing battle his entire life.

           "Fight me."

           "Excuse me?"

           Sun turned to him. "I was hidden in the balcony that overlooks the throne room when you gave that display in front of the queen." She stood straight, sweeping her cloak behind her so that her metal arm glimmered in the moonlight, affecting a mock bow. " _'I will step aside,_ '" she mimicked his earlier words, causing his mouth to twist, unable to meet her eyes. "That's all you ever do, Gan. Let others do the fighting, bow out when things get hard. You might have meant for your words to be interpreted as an attempt to make peace, but all I heard was _I will not fight you._ After all this time, turning away from a battle must be so natural to you that you no longer feel any shame. Din forbid that you have to _risk_ anything."

           At this, he couldn't help but have his eyes linger on those long, curved fingers, the plated wrist and forearm. He shuddered.

           "Does it disturb you?" she hissed maliciously. "Does my new arm make you uncomfortable? Maybe if you had sparred with me before, I might have gotten in enough practise that I would be standing in front of you tonight whole, but even when our lives were at risk, you refused. And I know why. It was because you knew that I would beat you, and it was so much easier to impress a starry-eyed little girl when you could claim to be undefeated. You've never lost a battle because you've never had to fight one."

           "That's not true," he snapped.

           "Then prove it."

           "This is ridiculous. Are you sure it is not your own demons that you need to fight? I have recovered, I have meditated on my decisions and I am at peace. It seems that it is you who needs this, not I."

           "Yes, you said that to the queen. Just more words."

           He stared at her, unable to believe that she was serious. She didn't look away, her face set. He wanted to shout at her, to grab her by the shoulders and shake her.

           "All right then, Sun," he sneered. "Where would we hold this duel?"

           "Right here. The guards only patrol here every hour or so."

           He didn't ask her how she knew that. "And how would we determine the winner? The first to three points?"

           "Don't be facetious. I'm sure you of all people know what defeat looks like."

           "So, it is to be to the death?" He was shaking his head, a growing horror dawning on him. She really meant this. But she was wrong. What did more violence prove? He had fought. He had fought the Yiga, back to back with Daniyah, and he had fought Link.

           _The Yiga were just petty criminals_ , said a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Sun. _And the hero had lost his way. He was barely a shadow of his true self_.

           _Why_ had he never fought her before? He was sure it was not for the reason that she stated, but rather something deeper. Fighting her would risk hurting her, would introduce violence into a relationship that was already overwhelming and confusing for a messed-up teenager. She might have seen into that hidden, broken part of him that secretly loved fighting alongside her because it allowed him to, for once, feel like something other than a victim. That had been then. As an adult he had refused to fight her because... He felt his chest contract painfully, and had to turn his eyes away from hers.

           Maybe, in some small way, she had struck upon some truth he had failed to realise. Fighting her then did mean risking defeat, but that wasn't the whole of it. If she could defeat him, she could defeat his shadow and if that were the case, it would have forever nullified any justification he had in abandoning her. This had been the tipping point, the one fact that had made his continued existence in this reality so unbearable that his solution was to disappear. Something inside him seemed to have always known this, but seeing the look in her eyes, the stubborn contempt, he finally found the words to name the feeling. And with that, only one question remained. What did he risk now by meeting her challenge? The worst had happened, and he was here. He had returned to Hyrule even after everything because, in the end, there had been a desire in him that was greater than his eviscerated pride. Whether that be family or legacy or honour, he did not know, but the fact remained that whatever it was, it had brought him _here_.

           "All right," he said, and there was no sarcasm in his voice. "I... understand."

           For once, she didn't contradict him, but nodded, as if this was the first thing he had said that she believed.

           "How do we do this?"

           She drew two long, thin knives from her hip, the blades catching the rising moon, and he was reminded of the last time she had turned her seikan on him. Then, she had been trembling with fury, unable to contain the boiling horror inside her. Now, she was cool as steel, though there was something about the curve of her mouth that made him wonder if she relished this. He drew his sword, letting it hang loosely in his hand, the tip pointing at the ground, his mouth dry.

           "If I do this," he said, still stunned by the absurdity of it, "you'll... forgive me?"

           "If, for once, you stand up to a real challenge without trying to weasel out of it, or flee, then I might have to admit that you've changed," she smirked. "But I don't think that's going to happen."

           Her words riled him, and he caught himself wanting to prove her wrong. Was that her game? To make him feel inadequate? He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, trying to quell the part of his mind that was trying to _understand_. It wasn't so complicated for Sun, he realised. Either he met her challenge and he was worthy, or he refused, and confirmed all her beliefs. He could not stand the latter. If fighting her meant burying his past for good, then so be it.

           He raised his sword in a defensive ward and waited, watching her with a steady, unblinking gaze. She stepped towards him, slow and deliberate, touching the blade of his sword with one of her long ones, not applying pressure, but coming close to him, moving into his space. This almost seductive movement was somehow more frightening than if she had outright attacked him and he stepped forward, pushing her back hard with his cross guard. Her response was not to back off but to attack with the other hand, forcing him to lift his sword in time to parry. He felt their blades connect with more strength than he had anticipated and was slow to answer her next attack, which missed him by a hairs breadth. He felt the sting of the air as the tip of her weapon arced lightning fast. She was not pulling her blows, he realised. He slashed diagonally in a controlled strike to her shoulder, which she rebounded with ease. She looked annoyed, as if she thought he wasn't taking this seriously enough, and to prove her point, she shoved his sword away and struck in one darting sweep.

           He was unprepared, and though he managed to avoid the totality of the strike, he felt the needle-sharp burn of the tip of her knife marking his face, just below his left eye. His head snapped to the side and he touched his cheek, his fingers coming away red.

           "What? Did you not think I wouldn't give it my all? Will you refuse now that you know you might actually get hurt?"

           His shock turned to simmering resentment. "You don't know me anymore, Sun," he hissed and resumed his attack. This time his blows were not timid or careful, but angry. He was in her space now and she was giving ground, her teeth bared. He got close enough to grab her wrist, but she sliced the back of his hand with the other blade and he was forced to let go. Blood hit the stone beneath them but he bit back his curse, aware that he didn't want to attract attention to the fight. She would not let up, but pressed her advantage, her seikan drawing sparks from his sword. For a fleeting second, he worried about what he might have to do if he was given the opportunity for a killing blow, but that thought was dashed from his mind as her blade found his flesh again. She had thrust forward and he had deflected the attack only far enough so that instead of sliding between his ribs, her knife cut into his side, causing him to gasp with pain. Seeing him distracted, she closed the gap between them and hooked her other blade behind his knee. He felt the cold steel press into the hollow there and froze. If she were to cut him there, she might hobble him permanently.

           She paused, meeting his eyes. "What now Gan? We can stop if you like. I'll let you back out. I've cut you up a little, but you haven't even risked a proper scar yet. There's still time to surrender without serious injury."

           "Why do you hesitate?" he rumbled. "Or is it just theatre after all?"

           The mocking hardness in her eyes cracked a little, and he saw something close to disbelief there. In a quick motion, she retrieved her blade, drawing a neat red line around the hollow of his knee in the process. Blood oozed from the wound and he shuddered, gritting his teeth against a stifled cry. But she had not cut deeply enough. The wound burned, but his leg still supported him. He seemed to have shaken her resolve but instead of relenting, she returned to the offensive with more aggression still. The blood from his leg had seeped into his boots and he was leaving bloody footprints on the stone floor.

           He brought his sword down with all the force he could muster and, letting one seikan hit the floor, she caught it with her robotic arm, arresting the blade in the vice-like grip of those metal talons. He used this to drag her towards him and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. Malice burned the metal, and he could smell it melting, feel the artificial tendons buckling and snapping. She tried to cut his hand from her but, gritting his teeth against the pain, he caught the blade, letting its edge sink into his palm. His lips pulled back in a grimace as he channelled as much power as he could into his hand. Black, seething Malice spread down the shaft of the blade, withering it until he was able to snap it in half. The broken edge fell from his shaking hand, now slippery with blood and he wrenched his sword free.

           Sun's right hand was jerking, the fingers and forearm twitching like a living thing. Staring at it in horror, she staggered back and he let her go. He was panting, bleeding heavily from his left hand and leg, his heart hammering. She bent to pick up the knife she had dropped but the metal fingers wouldn't close around the handle, and he knew that she would not be satisfied unless the fight was brought to its ultimate conclusion.

           He kicked the seikan away from her and grabbed her by the collar of her clothes, dragged her to the edge of the battlements, pushing her down so that her shoulders and head were pressed against the stone. She kicked and struggled, but she was pinned with one arm mangled, one seikan useless and the other out of reach. He rested his sword across the back of her neck and she stilled.

           "It's over Sun. I think you have your answer. I'm not going to kill you."

           "Why not? Wouldn't it be easier for you to dispose of me?" Her voice was muffled, but there wasn't any anger there. It sounded more like resignation.

           It would be easier for her if he were nothing but cruel and selfish. That way, she would be able to find some reason for what he had done to her. She could hate him without reservation, totally justified in her loathing. He released her, leaving a bloody stain on her back of her clothes. "You know why not."

           She stood up. He expected her to avoid his gaze, but she met his eyes, dusting herself off. There was no humiliation in her defeat. It hadn't really been about winning or losing, he knew.

           "I don't," she said. Their fight had left marks on her. Her cheek was grazed and while he had been pulling his blows where she hadn't, livid bruises were flowering where he had struck her with the flat and hilt of his sword.

           It was him who broke eye contact. "Because..." he said, his voice rasping. "I want to see you live after me. I want to see you heal and thrive, with or without me." He swallowed. "Why didn't you follow through when you had the chance?"

           She held onto her broken arm with the uninjured one. "I... I needed to see if you were telling the truth."

           "Do you believe me?"

           She didn't answer right away. "I don't forgive you."

           "Do you believe me?" he asked again. His mind was clear, but he was shivering, and had to clench his teeth to stop them from chattering. It had nothing to do with the temperature, as the night was still warm and pleasant. He was becoming more and more aware of the need to bind the deeper cuts she had left on him.

           "I... I don't know what I believe."

           "Then what?" he asked. "Where do we go from here?"

           "We're done," she said. "You don't owe me anything."

           There was a heavy finality in her voice that told him this might really be the last time he would ever speak to her. He felt again that familiar pull between wishing to be free of the shame and regret she brought him, and mourning the loss of her. He had known for a long time that things could never return to what they used to be, but he had hoped that he might find a way to be something different for her, that they might have a friendship sewn together from the happy patches of their shared memory. She had said that he didn't owe her anything, but the truth was that he owed her everything and she owed him nothing. Only any attempt to repay his debt only seemed to cause them both more pain. In the end, they would each be better off without the other.

           "You should go," he said, without any bitterness or anger. "I won't try and find you."

           "Sav'orq, vosha." When she said it this time, it was not cold or hostile, only hollow, neutral, like she was already turning him into a stranger in her mind.

          

          

          

 


	16. Preperation

      The sensation of not belonging, of treading on eggshells and looking over his shoulder, was becoming less and less of a constant. All arrangements had been made, all decisions had been reached, and now it was time for them to carry out their plan. Ganondorf spent his last few days at the castle pleasantly busy. Now that it had become evident that Chief Riju endorsed him, and Queen Zelda, at least outwardly, accepted him, the prevailing attitude of those around him shifted from restrained distrust to curiosity.

      The preparation for the upcoming conflict had been months in the making. Everyone was well aware of the urgent nature of the situation, but soldiers had to be outfitted and trained to use their new equipment. The logistical challenge of having his people craft the armour for themselves, the Hylians, and the Zora only to be handed over to the Sheikah to be enchanted and enhanced, took up the vast majority of his time. In the end, the most skilled armour smiths and craftswomen had been called from the desert into Central Hyrule, where they taught the others their techniques, merging practise with the Zora and Sheikah to standardize a design. The great tiered coliseum had been transformed into a factory where all of Hyrules best could work in parallel. Rito couriers delivered shipments of metal ores and other precious materials from Death Mountain, mined by the Gorons. The sheer collective effort was incredible. Despite the positive negotiations at the council table, he was still surprised to see how seriously everyone was taking their part, how invested they were in what they could easily dismiss as a problem that hardly affected them.

      Though the Yiga had occupied the Plateau for the better part of six months, stubbornly holding off the siege and violently lashing back against the first attack, they had appeared to do very little else. Instead of being soothing, or making the neighbouring Hylian and Gerudo people complacent, the silence disturbed them all the more. Zelda had been keen to break that silence - "secrecy is their greatest resource," she had said. "I take great pleasure in robbing them of it." It had been one of her early moves, to instruct her councillors to send messages back to their homes, informing their communities of the threat. This was part of why so many people had devoted so much time and manpower. Instead of causing a panic, something he had worried about, the information seemed to strengthen resolve. Maybe it was because it was akin to the rumours that had already been circulating regarding the Yiga’s motives and plans, confirming everyone’s darkest fears. The post Calamity population of Hyrule were not so easily shaken. They had survived their grandparents' apocalypse and thrived in dark and dangerous times. Fear was not unknown to them, but nor was courage and determination. It was difficult to feel pessimistic for the outcome of the battle

      The result was a fighting force of six hundred, with many hundreds more contributing by supplying food, armour, weapons, storehouses and barracks.

      However, from what he had heard from Link, underestimation of the enemy would be foolish, even with their apparent superior odds. Like the Dead River Massacre, they were completely blind as to how the Yiga occupied and changed the landscape of the Plateau. Venturing into the centre of their stronghold would be like going into a familiar house in total darkness, with the furniture rearranged and the space lousy with intruders. The Yiga might not be able to surprise them with their technology like they had done last time, but a Yiga foot soldier armed with a laser canon might take out several of their people before being dispatched. Link had not seen blademasters, but that didn't mean that there weren't any there, or that they weren't augmented and enhanced like the others; probably more so given their status as elite warriors.

      All this was saying nothing of the main objective of the Yiga plot. In whatever spare time he had, he poured over the journals and letters again, this time with a complete translation. Reading them, he was very much reminded of the mad young man who had poisoned himself rather than be tortured. He had expressed much of the same sentiment. The world was unnatural, the Yiga wrote. It had lasted far past its proper lifespan, and that the correct end to the cycle had been delayed and foiled time and time again.

_This world has been trying to end itself since its very dawn. We are just bringing about the will of fate. It's coming, but you won't see it until it's too late._

This was nothing new. This had always been the mission statement of the Yiga Clan for as long as anyone could remember. Aid and abet the powers of Ganon in order to bring about the destruction of Hyrule and all its people, as is foretold by their prophets and, in their minds, laid out in the plans of the Goddesses when the world was created. What was different was the bitter disappointment in any sentient being to make that destruction a reality. Ganon was flawed, they wrote. As a living thing, he was vulnerable to imprisonment, corruption, weakness. As he was, he could be defeated. Ganondorf felt a shiver of unease to see his own name written. He had been their next best hope, a condensed version of Ganon who was not the unwieldy monster that had dominated the castle, but a lean, powerful creature who could travel, influence, infiltrate. He would not attack the world, but crumble it from its foundations; planting the seeds of ruin and cultivating the new, absolute apocalypse. But, as the author of the journals mourned, Ganondorf's living heart and soul had weakened him, made him unfit for purpose and left Calamity Ganon no place to escape to when the Hero had come for him. The real Ganondorf sneered at the depiction of the fictional version of himself the author had clung to in order to justify their delusions.

_Off chasing your own shadow when Hyrule needed a King of Darkness. You have **Him** inside you... You could have been so powerful. So **glorious.** I'm glad you've returned. You'll see what you could have been... and weep._

The power of Demise, it seemed, needed a vessel. But why did that vessel have to be _living_? If it was only raw destructive power they wanted to capture and use, then what use would allowing it to have a mind of its own be? They would gather it, store it, nurture it with their limited but focused knowledge of magic and darkness, and then, when it was ready, unleash it. This was where the mind of the author appeared to unravel. The writing became unfocused, rambling, recording not speculation or plans, but dreams, visions and desires. The hellscape they painted was as no less horrifying for its lack of clarity. A darkness to blot out the sun, a fire so hot it would leave not even ash, the earth poisoned and yielding mutant crops that rotted those who ate them from the inside until they wasted away, livestock giving birth to monsters with three heads. Even the abominations would starve and decay until there truly was nothing left. All this, the author had scrawled in endless sentences that made Ganondorf feel sick to read.

      Then, coming almost as a surprise, Zelda sent a messenger to tell him that they would be mobilising.

 

      xxx

 

      There was no horse big enough for him, and he had let Sun ride away with Tilaq, so he walked the journey from Hyrule Castle to the campsite that had been constructed between East Post and the Forest of Time. Surrounded by Hylians, lacking his usual travel companions, he kept to himself. If anyone still harboured some curiosity about him, they didn't show it. Link, sometimes, would ride beside him and ask after him as clearly as he could without speaking. The language barrier was enough to stop them having conversations that lasted more than a few minutes, but even if they could speak easily, Ganondorf still suspected that Link was making an _effort_ to speak to him, either as an example to everyone else, or out of some sense of etiquette or compassion. Zelda, apparently, felt no such obligation, though he did spot her looking at him out of the corner of her eye on occasion.

      So, when they reached their destination, he was flooded with relief when a Gerudo jogged up to greet him, his face breaking into a grin for the first time in several days.

      "Sav'otta Daniyah."

      "You look well vosha," she smiled. "Travelling with the Queen and everything. And here I thought you'd defy expectations and live a meek and modest life."

      "Trouble just seems to have a knack of finding me," he said. "But you can't know how happy I am to see a familiar face. Servants and stone hallways disagree with me."

      "Sounds _dreadful_ ," she laughed. "Well, you won't catch any of us kowtowing. Come this way. I've come to find you on official business I'm afraid. The Chief wants a word before tomorrow."

      "Of course."

      He followed her through the village of white tents that made the Hylian portion of the army to a part of the field taken up by larger, more colourful tents. The Gerudo seemed to be dealing with their pre-battle energy by showing off. Banners were hung outside tents, and every so often, the lines of tents were broken by great pavilions, draped in silks that turned the light purple and amber. Despite the early hour of the day, there was a relaxed, almost celebratory atmosphere, with Hylians and Gerudo drinking, sparring, or otherwise blowing off steam. It was contagious and he felt his spirited lifted. A few Gerudo recognised Daniyah and waved at her, and he was pleased to find that instead of averting their eyes, they shot him reserved smiles. He lifted his hand to wave back and they started to giggle. He dropped his hand immediately and faced forward, feeling his cheeks burn.

      Riju's tent was splendid, easily the largest tent in the field, even compared to the other leaders. The entrance was guarded on either side by armed Gerudo, their golden armour catching the light of the morning like beautiful statues left behind from a time before the Calamity. They seemed to expect them, because Daniyah lifted the heavy flap that led inside and gestured that he follow her.

      Inside was pleasantly warm and dim. Riju had wasted no expense in making her quarters comfortable. A simpler, but no less grand version of her throne had been placed at the far end and she sat on this now. On either side were seating areas lined with plush lilac cushions. There were also parts of the tent that had been partitioned off with silk screens, probably where the Chief slept. A third guard stood to the left of the throne, and Daniyah took the empty space at the right, exchanging a few soft words with Riju before the latter slid off her seat and strode up to Ganondorf.

      He bowed.

      "I never thought," she said, "that I'd be pleased to see you." She was beaming. "Obviously I would rather we weren't at war, but given the circumstances, you've performed admirably. You'll have a lot of work to do before tomorrow, but I thought I should give you something before you meet with your captains and soldiers."

      "My captains?" He asked, puzzled.

      "Well, you'll be the one leading them through the underground passage. They will be under your command. Your reputation has preceded you. I daresay a lot of them are pleased to hear they will be working with someone who has your experience wiping out Yiga strongholds."

      He had suspected something like this would be required of him. Using the tunnels had been his idea, after all, but once again he found himself struggling to believe the level of control and responsibility he was being handed. A small part of him still balked at the idea of giving orders, but he thought about the alternative and realised he would have it no other way. He had gotten used to making things happen. He didn't think he would ever truly rid himself of the paranoia and nervous restlessness that were so much a part of him they had become indistinguishable from facets of his personality, but turning opinions into decisions into actions had been a surprisingly smooth transition. He remembered how he had dreamed of something like this, fantasized about having the power to mould the world around him and felt a confused surge of vindication and a now familiar, searing regret.

      If only he hadn't hidden away for so long. He could have had this so much sooner.

      Putting this emotion aside before it could show on his face, he said, "yes, of course. I won't let you down."

      "I know you won't," she said, and he couldn't help but feel it was less of a compliment and more of an instruction.

      Still smiling, she walked past him and waved for him to follow her. She led him out of the tent to a smaller, but still rather extravagant tent. The inside was laid out much like hers, only there was less lilac and more gold and earthy browns. It was divided in two, with a receiving area for company, and a sleeping space decorated with rich furs.

      "This is where you will be staying tonight," she said.

      "Thank you," he breathed. He had certainly not expected anything like this.

      "There is a chest at the foot of the bed. You'll need what's inside for tomorrow."

      He gave her a quizzical look, but she just smiled and shook her head. "As much as I wish I could stay, I must leave you for now. There is so much left to prepare and organise." Her shoulders sagged and he noticed again the dark circles under her eyes that had been so artfully disguised with kohl. He made to bow but she snorted impatiently. "Stand straight, Ganondorf. You're a commander now."

      She didn't seem to notice or mind if this embarrassed him, but gave him one last smile and departed, leaving him alone in his new luxurious accommodation. Curiosity overcame him and he stooped to open the large chest, snapping the golden clasps and wondering what else he would need for the battle tomorrow. Lifting the lid, he felt his breath catch in his throat.

      He had received gifts before, had what amounted to a small armoury in the Hebras, given to him piece by piece by the witches. Each object they had added to his collection had felt more like a bribe, stolen from greater men and given to him not as a gesture of love, but a reminder of what they expected from him. It had made him feel frightened, not rich. The implication of what would happen if he didn't grow into the murderous force they were grooming him to be had always permeated these presents.

      This was different. This, too, was a set of armour, but it wasn't like the ill-fitting black iron armour that had been taken from another man, defined by another time. It was elegant, contemporary, lined in hardened silk dyed midnight blue, the bronze plates inlaid with gold that formed twisting scaled patterns that combined into the form of a dragon. He recognised the characters for Dinraal, the fire serpent and the symbol for Gerudo sorcery. There was a visored helm, sleek and almost Sheikah in design, a rich cloak, lined with black fur and dyed wine red, gold embroidery lining the hem, bronze bracers and gauntlets that were fashioned after dragons’ claws. He ran his fingertips over the scaled surface of the greaves and pauldrons and found that they were not metal but actual m0lduga hide, rough and solid as rock, though light and flexible. Last, there was a scabbard, empty, but the perfect size for his longsword. He turned it over, admiring the lettering that had been carved into the bronze. His thumb brushed over a symbol that stood out, too geometric compared to the Gerudo curves and spirals. The top of the scabbard had been embossed with the Gerudo crest, and above that was a triforce, the topmost triangle leaved in gold. This had not been made for someone long ago, or for a man he was supposed to become, but expertly crafted for what he was now; a commander of the Gerudo, a sorcerer and a champion.

      Taking his sword from it's old, tattered sheath, he slid it into the new scabbard.

 

      xxx

 

      Instead of going to Zelda to repair her arm, Sun had gone to the forges of the coliseum and paid the armour smiths and the sheikah enchanters to construct something that was a little less fine, but far more durable. It took a lot of experimentation to reverse engineer Zelda's intricate spells and circuits, but she was patient and they were determined. What was left with was something that looked more like her old arm, clad in armour, with five fingers instead of four, and ball joined elbow and wrist.

      She met with Yshri north of Gerudo and travelled with her to help set up the camp that would be their base of operations during the second offensive on the Plateau. She worked with her mother to feed the incoming troops and labourers. For a long time, she worked hard and said little, but, bit by bit, Yshri teased the story out of her.

      "Are you troubled that he defeated you?" her mother asked. They were both kneading bread, their forearms gloved in flour.

      "No. If he hadn't beaten me, I think I would have hated him more. It would mean he didn't deserve everything he has."

      "So what does it mean?"

      "I don't know. Maybe it means he's changed. Maybe it means he'll make a good ruler. Maybe it means nothing. He hasn't paid his debt to me, but he has nothing more to give me. So we're done." She looked up at Yshri, giving her a sad smile. "I've got my whole life ahead of me. It's about time I stepped out from under his shadow."

      "I should never have helped him."

      "Mama, enough. You did the right thing. And it's over."

      "What did you do with his horse."

      "I gave him to the Lonlon Ranch," she shrugged. “I told them to take very good care of him, and if Ganondorf ever wants to reclaim him, he'll be safe there. In the meantime, they want to see if he can sire fouls."

      Yshri tilted her head, considering the possibility. "If it works... Well, in a couple of generations we might have a Gerudo cavalry. Din, can you imagine how terrifying that would be?"

      "It's a thought."

      There was a companionable silence between them as they kneaded the dough. Yshri stepped away to pay a couple of couriers for their delivery, rolling the barrels of apples into the tent. The quiet between them became heavier and heavier until Sun finally said; "Mama, what is it?"

      Yshri pursed her lips, assuming a look of forced nonchalance. "Are you going to be among those that storm the Plateau."

      Sun had considered this question herself. In truth, she had watched the early arrivals sparring and longed to join them, to train with the others, but the thought of actually joining them in the assault didn't sit well with her. It would mean following Ganondorf into battle, something that still appalled her in a deep seated, instinctual way that she knew was irrational, but powerful all the same. There would have been a time some years ago when she wouldn't have hesitated, and for a moment she wondered if some integral part of her had been dulled, spoiled even, but then she remembered that it had never really been about fighting evil for her. Her adventures had been about testing the limits of her ability. The battle on the Plateau, it wasn't her test to take. As much as it seemed contradictory, even in her own mind, she understood that she was a fighter, not a soldier.

      "They don't need me there," she said finally. "I'm needed here."

      Her mother seemed to deflate, letting out a sigh that contained all the worries and fears she had been holding. Sun smiled.

 

      xxx

 

      It was dawn. Ganondorf had awake long before sunrise, dressing by candlelight. It was up to him to lead the Gerudo through the tunnel before daybreak, to make the most of the element of surprise. No doubt the Yiga had seen the city of tents and prepared for another assault, but they wouldn't expect the fight to break out in their midst. This time they would have the advantage.

      He stepped out into the morning air. The camp was alive with quiet but urgent activity, with figures readying themselves and taking breakfast with hushed efficiency, talking in whispers even though there was no need. He headed to the western most part of the camp, where some two hundred Gerudo were meant to gather in preparation for the journey into the tunnels. It was a half hour before anyone was expected to be there, but he was surprised to find one lonely figure sitting on a bench at the edge of the empty space, her guards standing a little distance behind her. He approached and she nodded, indicating that he could sit with her.

      "Chief."

      "I couldn't sleep."

      He looked her over. She was dressed in sleek gold-plated armour, a scale mail breast plate that had been dyed a deep crimson, her hair bound in a tight braid to keep it out of her eyes, her helmet on her lap.

      "I never thought I'd have to do this," she said, looking out over the field. "After Calamity's End, I let myself believe that things could be simple."

      "Then I came along."

      "Then you came along..." She smiled, though it was weak, not reaching her eyes. "At least you’re on our side."

      He saw then that she was shaking. Strangely, he didn't feel afraid, but seeing her like this, it occurred to him that they would lose people in this fight. Unlike her, he didn't feel fear at this, but anger. They could see, beyond the woods that the other end of the field, the towering stone walls of the Plateau, silent and ancient, their towers lost in low clouds. He didn't know what to tell her to bolster her confidence, so he just let the minutes pass. When the first of the Gerudo arrived, she stood, and now she was steady, her eyes set. Accompanied by her guards, she met with her sisters and spoke with them in the same hushed tones that he heard within the camp.

      More arrived, and soon they were split into ranks based on arms. A white figure came into the field and he looked up, seeing Queen Zelda walking among the lines being formed. She was wearing silver armour, and although she was small and slender compared to the impressive Gerudo figures, she carried herself with pride and grace nonetheless. He stared at her, at the winged helm under her arm, the sword at her hip. Her armour was finely crafted and beautiful, but it was clearly not ceremonial. It hadn't occurred to him that the Queen herself would be fighting, but then he remembered what she had said at the council and shuddered.

      _Ganon did not **sleep.**_

      She seemed to find who she was looking for. A Gerudo swordswomen knelt in front of her and Zelda spoke a few soft words, touching the soldier’s forehead with a white gloved hand. He saw then that she was carrying a bow on her back, a golden crescent moon, unstrung and striking, like nothing he had ever seen before. The Gerudo stood and bowed and the two parted. He watched as Zelda left the way she had come, catching her eye briefly before she looked away. Now that he considered it, he guessed he shouldn't be surprised that some of his warriors - he had started to think about them as _his_ warriors - would request Hylia's blessing before the battle. How many of them went into this thinking that their death might be a possibility? His mood darkened.

      The time came. He stood. The ranks of Gerudo looked to him, and he wondered if he should say anything. They all knew what they were here for. If there had been a time for words, it had passed.

And so, with grim determination, he led the first of them into the Forest of Time.

 

 

 


	17. The Battle for the Plateau

              The tunnel had not been made for Gerudo, and they could only walk two abreast, dipping their heads occasionally so as to avoid the low ceiling. Ganondorf had known this would be the case and had chosen a smaller team, made up of those he knew, to follow him ahead of the rest of the soldiers, in case an ambush had been set up for them along the way. The tunnel started off much like a natural cave, but as they got closer to their destination, the floor evened out and the mossy rock walls were replaced by stone brickwork. They walked alongside a shallow canal that carried water in the opposite direction for some of the way before turning off into a drain. Their passage disturbed bats that skittered and scrabbled against the walls and roof of the tunnel, and were easy enough to ignore. Other than that, they met no sign of life.

              After what seemed like several hours, Ganondorf held up his hand and they stopped. They had come to what appeared at first to be a dead end. He put his hand on the flat stone in front of him, listening hard. He could make out no sounds on the other side. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his shoulder against the hidden door and pushed, getting his teeth against the low rumble as it ground against the floor. Sword drawn, he slipped through the gap he had made and entered the cathedral beyond, signalling the others to wait for the all-clear.

              Dawn light shone through broken stain glass windows, painting the floor with shards of colour. He shivered, feeling the cold of the morning air. The Yiga had attempted to shield the space against the elements but their reconstruction was rushed and appeared mostly improvised. Wooden scaffolding still covered most of the south wall and the paved floor was cracked and weed infested. The rest of the room was blocked from view by the great statue of Hylia before him, and he crossed the space to stand directly behind it, listening. He could hear nothing but the sounds of the birds and the wind until the soft murmur of conversation drifted from the entrance to the temple. He leaned around the statue, spotting a man and a woman sitting on the top of the steps leading up to the temple and deliberated on what to do next.

              He couldn't justify killing them outright while they relaxed in the early morning sunlight, out of uniform and clearly off duty. He felt a sardonic smile spread across his face as realised that everything had been so neatly laid out for him. He stepped out from behind the statue and strode up to them at a brisk pace. They heard his footsteps and started to their feet as he was half way towards them.

              "What the -?"

              "Is that...?"

              He trailed the fingers of his left hand along the flat of his sword from cross guard to tip, lacing it with flickering orange flames that snapped and licked the steel. He realised he must look a terrible sight, tall and clad in scarlet and bronze, illuminated by his own fire. Confusion turned to fear in the eyes of the Yiga and they backed away down the steps.

              "You're under attack!" he boomed from the doorway. "Go. Run. Raise the alarm. Your reign ends here today."

              They didn't need telling twice. They fled, racing down towards the settlement at the base of the temple. Ganondorf let his eyes lift from them to Plateau, gazing over the lay of the land for the first time. From his vantage point on the hill, he could see that the Yiga had made the most of the natural resources available to him. To the northwest, where the Forest of Spirits used to be, the Yiga had cut down more than half the trees, building in their place wood and iron structures that burned with the black smoke of forges. Watch towers rose up from the rest like obelisks, adorned with the inverted Sheikah eye. Directly below him, there was what looked like a village of sorts, small stone houses with thatched roofs where there used to be ancient ruins. It seemed they had not inherited the same conservationist philosophy of the Sheikah, preferring instead to clear away the old to make space for the new.

              He didn't have time to stand and regard the scenery forever. The Yiga he had warned had reached the village, meaning that the fight would be on them at any moment. Turning on his heel, he darted back to the entrance to the tunnel, hauling it open so that the Gerudo could start filtering through. He had archers line the facade of the temple, taking cover behind the monstrous remains of the guardians that must have been too difficult to remove.

              "We want to make a spectacle," he instructed. "We want every clansman on the Plateau to know we're here. Light your arrow tips - if we can set their village alight, we can cause a little bit of chaos."

              Someone came to stand beside him at the edge of the stone steps that led down into the Plateau. It was Farah. He waited for her to say something, but she remained characteristically silent, simply observing the world with him. A gentle breeze caused the husks of the guardians to creak. His makeshift heralds had disappeared among the buildings. These would be the last few moments of peace they might ever know.

              Eventually, before the bottom edge of the sun parted with the horizon, he looked at her.

              "Everyone is ready," she said, answering his unasked question.

              He nodded. "Let us begin," he said.

              A spear of fire formed in his outstretched hand, and, picking his target, he hurled it at one of the towers. It exploded against the base of the structure, setting a fire that was eating through the tower and the surrounding area within minutes, but he had already thrown another, obliterating the roof of another building. The reaction was slow, but once the fires were spotted, the distant soldiers realised what was happened to them and horns blared, the alarm finally sounding. From where they were, it looked like tens of tiny red ants were scurrying from building to building, trying to gather water.

              "Should we go down into the settlement and -?"

              "No. Let them come to us. Ready the archers. They're going to soon realise where the barrage is coming from." He sent another flaming javelin shooting towards the enemy.

              The archers were ready when the Yiga, discovering where the attacks were coming from, formed rudimentary ranks of their own. The Gerudo had the high ground, and in order to reach them, the Yiga would have to climb the stone steps that led up to the temple, completely exposed and vulnerable to his archers.

              It wasn't arrows that they retaliated with, however. A blast of blue energy pierced the air just above his head and smashed into the facade of the temple, showering them with rubble. He heard a cry as the Gerudo archers hurried to find other forms of cover, and swore. The second blast seemed to be aimed directly at him and he had to dive out of the way, shielding himself with the body of a guardian. As he steadied himself against its great bell-shaped body, an idea occurred to him. Grinning viciously, he gathered the Malice inside himself, feeling the familiar pulse like a comforting heartbeat, and fed it into the rusted machine. Magenta light flickered and shone from the deep grooves in its body and some of his warriors fell back, alarmed. When they saw that he had his hands on it, their shouts of warning turned into cheers.

              The guardian was almost rusted through, whatever insides it had left well plundered by now, but it had enough power to lift a single mechanical tentacle, the clawed feet planting themselves in the ground. Stepping back, he felt the Malice flood the machine, using as much of his power as he could to brute force it to life. The metal screeched as it tried to lift its heavy body, the head twisting. Its only leg trembled and tried to gain purchase before it snapped under the pressure, but he didn't care. He didn't need it to march, he only needed it to channel the Malice he was pouring into it. It began to whine just as a third blast from the Yiga missed them narrowly, and within moments he was able to answer the threat. Scarlet light exploded from the guardian. Its aim was true, and the blast tore apart the front ranks of Yiga foot soldiers. He sent another tearing along the lines of soldiers, cutting through them like a scythe.

              But he couldn't let it fire on its own without his direct control. If he left the guardian to make its own decisions, it would as soon fire on his own soldiers as the Yiga. So he was pinned behind it, his entire concentration taken up by feeding it enough power to turn and fire, when the enemy had many such canons, rendering their place on the high ground a vulnerability by turning them into sitting targets. The Yiga’s response had been confused and disorganised at first, but they were waking up to the threat and swiftly coming together.

              Taking a moment to breathe, Ganondorf scanned the battlefield, searching for the Hylians and Zora, and saw nothing but red. The noise and lights should have been enough to trigger the rest of the offensive, but they were nowhere to be seen. Lifting his hand to the sky, he shot a ball of fire rocketing upward like a flare. As a shot from the Yiga struck a nest of his archers, blasting them backwards - dead or unconscious, he couldn't tell - he drew the Malice back from the guardian, draining its mechanical veins of its lifeforce and pulling it into himself, bolstering his strength. The guardian seemed to sigh, powering down,

              It hadn't been a moment too soon. The Yiga were rapidly slipping out of their grasp. Several spun into existence among them and proceeded to wreak havoc. A foot soldier, having materialised directly in front of him trained their laser canon on him, but he was quicker. They had no magic in their bodies, no command of Din's Fire, and had to rely on their weapons, a limitation he did not have. With a single, arcing motion, he slashed upward with his sword and set the clansman alight with it, the magical flames spreading from his blade and catching their clothes. Reversing the strike, he cleaved his opponent from the shoulder to stomach, and the figure collapsed in a heap.

              They would not lose themselves to fear. They would not be terrorised. It was the Yiga who should be afraid. They had erupted into the middle of their fortress like scorpions in the sand, and while they were outnumbered now, each Gerudo was easily a match for five foot soldiers.

              "Sisters!" He shouted. "Do not let them divide our ranks. Close in on them. They think they surprise us but they're only materialising close enough to fall on our blades!" He exemplified this, turning on his heel to drive his sword into the heart of a clansman after hearing the tell-tale firecracker snap of him shifting into existence behind him.

             

              xxx

 

              Like before, Link would be leading the Zora into the Plateau through the River of the Dead. This was to be done in several trips, with the Zora ferrying Hylians, introducing more and more troops in waves. Given that they could travel in the water swifter than the Hylians on land, they would then race ahead to the mouth of the river to meet any resistance head on.

              It was past dawn, and the attack on the Temple of Time would be well underway by now. A second wave of Gerudo, led by Riju, would soon be arriving via the secret tunnel. When a Zora scout descended into the Regencia in an impressive freefall dive, and made land on the little rocky outcrop just outside the churning waters at the bottom of the waterfall, Link felt his heart quicken. Zelda was with him, and he could sense the impatient urgency in her pacing, and the way that she watched the Zora with expectant eyes as she addressed Prince Sidon.

              "There are Yiga entrenched along the river, your Grace, just like before. They are not so many, however. There is a large portion of them travelling east towards the Temple."

              "So, Ganondorf and the Gerudo are doing their jobs," Zelda muttered aloud.

              "We can't leave them alone for long," Sidon said. "If we take too much time, they will struggle to hold back such numbers over time, but if we strike too fast, then they will not have drawn enough of the Yiga towards them."

              _Now is the time,_ Link signed. _We must chase the stragglers towards the Gerudo so that they are trapped between us and the Temple._

              Zelda glanced at Link and for a moment he saw the hesitation there, the unasked question. He didn't raise his hands to convince her, but simply returned her gaze with a steady one of his own, letting her know silently, motionlessly, that he wouldn't suggest this if it were the wrong decision. They were ready now. They had trained for this, equipped for this.

              "I agree with Link," she said. "Let's strike now."

              "Your Majesty," Sidon said, kneeling and bowing his head. "It would be my honour to carry you past the waterfall." He extended his hand to her, which she took.

              To prepare for the bitter cold of the slopes of Mount Hylia, they had stowed thick fur cloaks in waterproof sacks. Despite this, by the time that they had landed on the snow-covered banks of the River of the Dead, ice had formed on ends of Zelda's hair and Link stumbled, unable to feel his feet.

              The scout had been right. The Yiga were there to meet them but their numbers were greatly depleted. Instinctively, he stood in front of Zelda, raising his shield as red dots raked their bodies. About twenty Zora were left with them while Sidon left to command the transportation of the rest of the soldiers.

              "Your people must stay in the water," Zelda ordered, drawing her sword. "The Hylians will infiltrate their trenches, flush them out so that they are visible to your archers. Always push east, towards the temple. We must trap them between the hammer and anvil. Go now."

              Obediently, the Zora took to the water just as Hylian troops were deposited onto the snow on either side of the river. There was a cry of warning as the first of the Yiga canons fired on them, but his training had paid off. His warriors raised their shields, faces pale and set, and the blinding bolts of energy connected and were absorbed. There was a pause, a silence that only contained the heavy breathing of the soldiers and his own heartbeat in his ears, as the Yiga came to understand the full implication of what had just happened.

              The Hylians advanced.

 

              xxx

 

              When Riju arrived with reinforcements, the ground was spattered with Gerudo and Yiga blood. The increase of warriors forced the vanguard soldiers to expand, making way for the new arrivals. Ganondorf was at the head of this charge, clearing the way with fire and fury, leaving burnt and blackened corpses behind him. The Yiga, though now fully organised, were still adapting to an apparently evolving fight. This was no longer a skirmish, but a multi-step theatre, and that fact was only just dawning on them. Despite their superior weapons, they were on the backfoot, the ranks trembling, on the verge of retreat. His fearless example rippled through his fighters and they struck out savagely, showing no mercy.

              All the while, he knew that they were not seeing the entirety of the Yiga force. He had not met blademasters or skysoldiers and knew that they must be hidden somewhere, waiting for the right moment to rush in. He warned his captains against letting their forces split into bands to root out those who may have taken shelter in the wooden houses and barracks in case they were ambushed by specialist soldiers lying in wait like trapdoor spiders. Instead, he instructed them to set fire to everything that they passed.

              Suddenly, so suddenly it was almost jarring, there was no one left standing against them to the east. The Yiga were in rapid retreat. His own warriors turned back to the temple and regrouped with Riju's reinforcements. He met with her just as she was ordering a fresh attack. Yiga were coming from the west, and he could see them now, the skysoldiers with their tattered canvas wings soaring just below the clouds.

              The Gerudo prepared themselves for another clash. The Yiga, finding themselves trapped with the Gerudo at their front and the Hylians and Zora at their back, became vicious. The first part of the battle had been to their disadvantage, fighting uphill against the Gerudo in the temple. Now they had the high ground, fighting on the slopes of the hills that led to the River of the Dead and Mount Hylia. The slipped between the ally’s ranks like fish in a river, impossible to pin down. On their way, they lashed out where they could before disappearing into thin air. The skysoldiers plummeted to the ground, clawing at their foes and scoring the ground with canon blasts before climbing the updrafts, out of range like hideous hawks, heading ever eastward. The foot soldiers, darting in and out of existence, were not as immediately destructive as their airborne counterparts, but devastating all the same. They targeted specific warriors, larger Zora and Gerudo that cleared a path for the others, and appeared directly behind them, maiming and crippling before vanishing in clouds of red smoke, leaving their targets to get caught up in the rest of the onslaught.

              They did not intent to linger, however. They were not here to make a stand but to escape, and almost as soon as the fighting escalated, Hylian, Zora and Gerudo met on the battlefield with what remained of the Yiga fleeing east.

              Ganondorf caught the arm of a warrior that had turned on her heel to begin pursuit of the enemy. "Leeti', eisha. 'Aathkai. Jor tothuurij." _Slow, sister. Follow. Do not engage._ She paused, then seemed to understand his meaning. The Yiga, panicked and realising that defeat would soon be upon them, would make their last stand where their ultimate treasure was hidden. They would lead them right to the skull. In the meantime, they should gather their strength for the final blow.

              He climbed through the Hylian ranks. "Where is Zelda? Where is the queen?"

 

              xxx

 

              Zelda could see the retreating red figures as they fled across green fields. "They're heading to the Eastern Abbey," she noted. From her place on the highest slopes of the hills that divided the north and the south of the Plateau, she could clearly make out the landscape. Taking in a deep breath of the icy air, she took the golden bow from her back and weighed it in her hands. Link stood beside her, his sky-blue tabard darkened by blood

              _We should divide the army. Have the Gerudo and the Zora come from the north and south while we cross the bridge from the west,_ he suggested.

              "How many do you think are left?"

              _Does it matter? Two hundred or fifty, we should still approach with care. That's where their weapon is. It's all they have left. They'll protect it to the last man._

This was it. It was coming to an end. The fighting up till now had been hard despite their advantage. They had been always pushing, always aggressing, plunging headlong into danger again and again. She had expected Link to step in front of her more than once, protect her like nothing had changed in the last one hundred years, but there had been no need to tell him to give her space. The trust he had in her had shocked her at first, but she soon forgot that concern. They assisted each other, made openings and fought side by side as if they had been doing so since the dawn of time. He took her competence in his stride, treating her not as his charge but his equal, and the freedom this granted her filled her with confidence as she led her soldiers over the difficult terrain. Even so, she was feeling the effects of the battle. Not fear - fear was something that she pushed back, to be felt later - but the creeping feeling of being apart from herself. She did not think of the blood on her sword, or how a man’s weight had felt on her shoulder as she killed him. She didn't feel grief for the Hylians she had seen die, but she was shaking like she should be feeling it. It was as if her body were experiencing the horror and the rage, all the while her mind remained detached, protected. Later, it would flood her, but that was not something she had to think of now.

              She began to make the arrangements, sending messengers to the wings of her army. The descent into the fields was difficult. The snow had made the earth soft and blood had seeped in, making it slippery. Then they would be travelling across farmland, which had been levelled and were now thick with wheat so close to harvest. She thought vaguely of the industry that would be wasted here. They would have to encourage citizens to move here, to take up the harvest and she wondered how she could persuade people to make their homes on this blood-soaked land. That was another thought for later, however, and she turned her attention to Ganondorf, who approached her as she reached the bottom of the slope.

              "Zelda, I have sent warriors to follow the Yiga and get a closer look at their hold out in the abbey. They should return shortly with a report."

              She stared up at him, unable to see his eyes under his helm. He was holding his sword, and it was crusted with black blood as if it had been burned on. For some reason, it felt frivolous to correct him on how he had addressed her when there were more important things going on. There was an unspoken expectation in the way he waited for her. Their army had done, and would do, all that it could, but when it came to the end, it would be up to them to destroy the vessel. She had known that she and Link would be the ones to end it, but factoring in a third had been so far from the realms of possibility that she struggled to understand his role in this. They had so often stood on the opposite ends of the battlefield.

              "Good," she responded, after an awkward pause. "Once I hear the report, I'll give the order to advance. Are... are you going to be alright?"

              "I don't know what you're talking about." His voice was steady, courteous, but there was an edge there and she looked away, embarrassed. She had offended him.

              "What are you going to do?"

              "I'm going to give you a clear shot," he said.

             

              xxx

 

              The scout returned sooner than he had expected and he was perhaps a little curter than he should have been when she explained the layout of the abbey and the position of the Yiga. He ordered her to pass along the information to the queen, but before she departed, she hesitated.

              "What is it?"

              "There is a mounted... person," she tried to explain. "He wears the mask of a creature I have never seen before and he stalks the field outside the abbey like a ghostly knight. I don't know what he is, only that he... he makes me afraid."

              He frowned at her, forgetting what Zelda had said to him in an instant.

              "The mask, was it luminous, bearded, with many yellow eyes?"

              "Yes, Commander."

              "Go, sister. I will entertain this knight while the armies surround the abbey."

              His mild reeled as he made his way around the south of the temple, along the edges of the wheat fields. Could it be? He had no idea what had happened to the mask after he had fled. He had always assumed it had been abandoned. But three years was a long time. Long enough for someone to wonder up to the grove at Satori Mountain and find the mask in the middle of the pond next to the now dead tree? He had wondered before if the Yiga had ever spied on him. How else would they have known about the shadow, or his movements before his disappearance?

              Alone, he reached the edge of the farmland and saw the abbey across the plains. Unlike the Temple of Time, it had been reconstructed almost in full, though with no regards as to its original architecture and design. The original ruins could only have hinted at the original facade, and the Yiga had built on top of them, bricking up what used to be delicate archways and fortifying the edges with mounted canons. He got a little closer, though he was careful to stay low and out of sight, and saw strings of a black substance clinging to the outer columns. Even at this distance he could sense the beating pulse that lay within.

              He was distracted by movement at the other end of the field. A horseman on a powerful blue horse seemed to spot him and had veered around, thundering towards him at such a pace, that he could see the earth that the horse displaced with its pounding hooves. The blue light from the end of a long golden staff unfurled into a three-pronged guardian spear and Ganondorf stood straight, his sword held out. He remained immobile as the rider drew nearer, showing no signs of slowing down. The rider was twenty feet away now and he could see the eyes of the mask boring into him, the ethereal strands of feathery blue hair pinned back by the wind and the momentum. He was ten feet away and Ganondorf could feel the ground tremble every time the horse made contact. When he was five feet away, Ganondorf leapt aside, rolling in the grass to avoid the searing edges of the spear.

              The horse skidded to a stop, rearing as its rider snapped its head back with the reins, forcing it to turn on its hind legs before breaking into a full gallop towards Ganondorf. He had just enough time to bring his sword up and deflect the spear, stepping aside so that the flanks of the horse passed within inches of him. When it turned and drove at him a third time, he was prepared and, gritting his teeth, he waited for the very last second before side-stepping and bringing his sword around in both hands with a cry. The horse let out a horrible shriek as he severed its front legs from the knee down and tumbled to the ground in a heap, twisting and writhing, torrents of dark blood spurting from the jerking stumps. Its rider had leapt away, landing with surprising grace some distance away from the animal.

              Then, impossibly, he struck Ganondorf with the spear, driving it into his shoulder. The guardian spear couldn't pierce the muldoga hide but he staggered backward, his left arm suddenly numb. He couldn't parry the second strike either, which took off his helmet and left a jagged cut from his cheekbone to his forehead. His vision became red tinted and he reeled, disorientated. His opponent was the size of a blademaster, and unbelievably fast. He could barely make out the blur of movement as a third blow came from above, and was only able to block it through sheer instinct. He raised his sword above his head, catching the trident between two of its prongs. Seeing this, he twisted the blade, hoping to disarm, but his opponent clung on, allowing his body to bend rather than relinquish his weapon. Like a snake, the masked Yiga withdrew and struck again, this time aiming for his chest. Grunting, he brought his left hand around, grabbing the neck of the trident. His shoulder screamed with pain but he embraced it, channelling the rage and agony so that it ate through the golden shaft in the form of Malice.

              The Yiga let go of it then, and if he was enraged or frightened, Ganondorf couldn't tell. The amber eyes of the Lord of the Mountain looked balefully at him, lidless and hollow. Before he knew what was happening a long thin sword had snapped into his opponent’s hand and he had slashed with it in a lighting fast downward strike that took the last three fingers of Ganondorf's right hand. He screamed, bringing his hand close to his chest, already slick with blood. His sword hit the grass and he lurched backwards.

              All it would take was a single blow and he would fall. He had enough time to chide himself for not learning long ago that this thing was his death omen. Fighting past the pain, he drew upon the only weapon he had left. He was close enough to the abbey to feel the dark pulse in the earth, and he pulled on it, combining it with the darkness inside to bring forth seething Malice that gripped the Yiga, wrapping around his calves. He let out a muffled cry, trying to use the hilt of the sword to scrape off the bubbling ooze that was now burning through his greaves. Ganondorf noticed something through the blood and the pain. The sword, the winged cross guard. The Malice had crept up to his opponent’s knees, rooting him to the ground, but he was struggling to breathe through the burning. He needed to end this quickly. He took up his sword again, holding it loosely in his left hand. While the Yiga was distracted, hissing and gasping in agony, he batted away his sword and beheaded him with a clumsy second stroke that put him off balance. He staggered, but remained on his feet. The Yiga hit the ground with his knees and hovered there for a moment, dribbling blood from his severed neck, before pitching to the ground, defeated.

              The mask had been cast aside, but it was whole and undamaged. Sheathing his sword, he stooped and lifted it with his good hand, feeling the weightless softness of it. He blinked and his vision shifted, becoming indistinct. Half of the world seemed to be fading. Wincing, he tucked the mask under his right arm and touched the left side of his face with his hand, where the spear had glanced off him. The skin there burned, and he felt the gash that had been scored there, hot and wet and searing. He blinked again, and with a stab of panic, he understood that the blow had not been as harmless as he had first thought. Blood rolled down his forearm.

 

              xxx

 

              "What was that?" Zelda hissed, running towards Ganondorf, who was swaying unsteadily over the corpse of the blademaster.

              Link hurried behind her. The horse had gone limp, but it was still alive. Its great body rose and fell in gurgling wheezes and he felt sick. He approached it carefully, his boots squelching on the ground made muddy with the horse’s blood and placed the tip of his sword over its heart. In one swift motion, he put all his weight on the pummel, driving it downward so that the beast shuddered one last time and fell truly still.

              Zelda was in front of Ganondorf, reaching up to touch his bleeding face with her white gloves, but he stepped back.

              "I'm fine," he growled. "I just need something to bind my hand."

              "You need a healer."

              "You need to storm that abbey," he said. "I have cleared the way." He spotted Link, and stepped past Zelda, who let him go with a serene but morose expression. He bent by the body of his fallen foe and tried to lift something, but he was already carrying something under his arm, with his mangled hand held close to his chest and his other hand trying to stanch the bleeding from the cut in his face. Link moved forward, stopping the big man from taking another step. One yellow eye peered at him.

              "Take the mask from me," he said, and Link saw what he was holding. Careful not to cause him any pain, he took the mask from Ganondorf, the soft strands of hair bearing beads of blood that rolled of it, leaving it clean and unmarred. It must have been the mask that had allowed what appeared to be an unremarkable soldier to move with such speed and precision. But Ganondorf wasn't finished. When Link made to draw away, Ganondorf caught his wrist in his good hand and he was able to see the whole of his face. The cut was deep, but it was clean, and though it would heal, it would leave a terrible scar. It was the eye that made him pause. The lid had been split and while he seemed able to focus on him for a moment, the iris dulled, the colour fading to a pale white.

              "Take the sword," he said, and Link realised he was staring openly. He composed his face and shook his head, indicating that he didn't understand. Ganondorf looked past Link and he could see the one sighted eye fix on the Yiga's sword.

              For a moment, Link didn't dare believe it. He bent to pick up the sword, and as soon as his fingers met the hilt, light flared from the blade, causing him to blink. He lifted the Mastersword from the ground and, discarding his replacement longsword, held it in front of him. His mouth was dry, his heart beating hard. It didn't seem damaged. While he had been fighting with the replacement, he hadn't noticed a difference, had only been focusing on the next opponent, the next blow, but now that he held it in his hand, the ordinary one had been clumsy, heavy and brutish in comparison. It was as he had been missing a limb and it had been returned to him. He looked from the blade to Ganondorf who was half-grimacing, half-smiling.

              Link lifted his free hand and touched his chin. _Thank you._

              xxx

 

              He could not hold his sword, and even if he could, the sight in his dominant eye had faded to almost nothing. He tried to remain calm, to act civil, but he felt a childish urge to hide his injuries, as if by letting no one else see them, he could pretend they hadn't happened. His hands had been burned and frozen, his forearms and fingers still bearing the scars from that time, but he had never lost the use of them. He had never even considered losing his eyes. When the Zora healer asked to see his face, he almost refused, the fear bubbling up in his chest paralysing him. The pain was nothing compared to the fear and the frustration. He had defeated his enemy, cleared the way for the queen, lifted a terrible threat from the battlefield, but sitting here, leaning against the walls of the temple, he felt like a failure.

              His hand was still freely bleeding, so this was seen to first, bound in bandages that turned red almost at once. The healer made him hold his hand above his heart, against the opposite shoulder, and she bound it there tightly, adding clean bandages and warning him to keep it still. He then allowed her to clean and the right side of his face. All the while, she didn't look him in the eyes but spoke to him softly in a sweet soothing voice that he found more terrifying than if she had snapped at him, asking him inane questions that he was unwilling to answer. She was trying to distract him from the pain, he knew, and that only made it worse.

              She began to sew along his cheekbone. "Have you lived in Gerudo all your life?" she asked conversationally. He gritted his teeth and watched her serene face as it passed in and out of his vision. "Answer me, my lord. Even severed fingers can cause shock."

              "No," he muttered.

              "Are you cold?"

              He was shivering, but he wasn't cold. He made to shake his head, but remembered that she was still working on his face. "No," he said.

              "Good... if you could live anywhere, where would it be?"

              The answer stuck in his throat.

              "My lord?"

              "Gerudo Town," he growled.

              Her fingers stopped for a few seconds as she realised that her question might have been insensitive. When she continued, her voice was as light and pleasant as before. "Take deep breaths, my lord. Shallow gasps will make you faint."

              He drew in air as steadily as he could. Satisfied that he wasn't going to faint or go into shock, she allowed him to fall silent, and he was deeply thankful. The stitching made the pain flare up every time she pressed and drew the thread through, but she moved quickly with gentle and dextrous fingers. She finished and washed her hands in a basin of water, leaving it pink. She then placed her clean hand over his left eye and his heart skipped a beat. All he could see was a dull grey brown. A shadow shifted in front of him and he blinked, trying to clear his vision.

              "How many fingers am I holding up?"

              He couldn't answer her.

              She lifted her hand and peered into his face. He could see, with his good eye, her sea-blue eyes darting from one side of his face to the other, the red scales on her cheeks creasing in a frown.

              "Are you finished?" he asked.

              "Your hand will continue to bleed if you move around, and I must cover the wound on your face."

              "Then do it. I must go the abbey."

              "I cannot let you fight, my lord."

              She had said it politely enough, but he hated her all the same. "Will you stop me?"

              "The Hylian champion and the rest of the army are clearing the abbey now, so I'm told. They will be finished by the time I allow you to leave."

              He let his head fall back against the stone column, shutting his eyes and exhaling through gritted teeth. He had overexerted himself and now he was helpless. His sword lay beside him and felt the fingers of his right hand twitch, though only his forefinger moved under the bandage and pain raced up his wrist and forearm, making him hiss. Blood seeped into the new bandage. The healer continued to clean and dress his face.

 

              xxx

 

              She found him sitting on a low wall outside the temple. Link had recovered his helmet and she had taken it to return to him.

              The fight at the abbey had been long and costly. The Yiga had holed themselves inside, forcing a drawn out miniature siege. In the end, they had used explosive arrows to tear apart the old sections of the walls, but this had only been the first of many bottle necks and close quarters fights that left the hallways choked. They had pushed the Yiga deeper into the building, until they had been backed into the doors of a central hall that were chained shut. The last of the Yiga fell here, but not before taking out tens of her soldiers. The dead were being recovered now, lain out on the grass.

              Even though summer had given way to autumn, bright sunlight fell on the fallen figures. Though she noted the contrast - such things weren't supposed to happen on brilliant summers days - she didn't feel the grief. Like everything else, that would be delayed until later, when she would see their pale faces in her nightmares.

              She came to Ganondorf now because the central hall was barred by more than just bolts and chains. He watched her approach.

              "Is it over?" he asked.

              She was a little taken aback by the question. She had simply assumed that he would somehow know if the weapon had been destroyed, but she reminded herself that this wasn't based on evidence, only a false equivalency.

              "No. There is still one more thing to do."

              "The skull?"

              "The place where it is kept is blocked by Malice. The Mastersword can cut through it, and my arrows can force it back, but we cannot make it disappear."

              She tried to read his expression. "Take me to it," he said.

 

              xxx

 

              Black, seeping Malice clung to the walls and floor of the chamber in great dripping strings like a spider’s web. It had stained the pale stone, and glistened with that neon inner light that seemed to have a life of its own. He moved so he was on the threshold and closed his eyes, breathing slowly, concentrating.

              He tried to feel out the totality of the Malice in the room, but almost as soon as he opened his mind to it, he was overwhelmed. It was as if a wave of it had crashed on him and he drew in a sharp breath, opening his eyes. His head was pounding painfully. There was so much energy in this room alone that he felt crushed by it. The closest he had come to feeling it this powerfully had been when he had ventured into the ruins of Hyrule Castle Town years ago, the closest he had ever been to the nest of Calamity Ganon. He forced himself to gather his composure and breathed through the beating pressure in his temple. The source of it was in the centre of this room, he was sure, and while it might not have originated from him, he could still bring it under control. Inhaling slowly, he tried to draw the Malice to its source. He saw the corrosive darkness retreat, coming off the stone, leaving dark, ugly stains. Soon his efforts were blocked, however. It was like trying to pump water into an already full and sealed barrel. It was already so concentrated, the source a solid writhing mass as impenetrable as diamond. Gritting his teeth, he changed tact, letting out his breath and pushing the energy out, spreading it thin so that the Malice around him advanced, seeking windows and cracks in the stone to escape through. Even so, he couldn't touch the darkness in the centre.

              When the room was clear, and he was sure he couldn't sense anything living within, he moved forward to better see what was causing the obstruction to his power. What he found was like nothing he had ever seen before. Malice had gathered around an object, obscuring and clinging to it so densely that he could barely make it out. It seemed like a kind of metal chest, tied to the ground with massive heavy chains that had already been eaten away. The skin of it shifted, peeling back to reveal an amber eye, slitted and reptilian. It peered at him warily, regarding him in the ways that all cursed creatures tended to, unsure what to make of him though not completely hostile, as if they sensed some kinship with him. It had been his advantage surviving alone in the wilds during the Calamity, and it was his advantage now. Unwilling to risk his sword, he sent a knife of fire at the eye with his good hand. There was a whining, hissing sound like a screaming kettle as the eye shrivelled and disappeared.

              He took a moment to consider his options. He forgot about the soldiers waiting on him, about Link and Zelda who stood at the entrance to the chamber, and simply regarded the object in front of him, for he could not deny it was anything other than the skull of Ganon in that metal chest. He tried to imagine it, tried to envision the warped and ruined structure, the grinning jaw, unrecognisable as anything that had once been alive and found himself wondering if it was, in fact, recognisable. Would it look like Gerudo skull? What terrible transformation had this creature endured in the pursuit of ultimate power? Had it been capable of distinct thought and desire when the hero had cut it down? He felt no pity, but he was surprised by the powerful and deeply unsettling empathy that existed between himself and this thing, his ancient brother. If he had seen Ganon when he was alive, would he have recognised himself?

              Tearing away from these uncomfortable thoughts, he knelt before the chest, reaching out with his mind. It wasn't so much a heartbeat as the pounding of the earth beneath him. He followed it, picking up its rhythm, holding fast to his mind so that he wouldn't be swept away. He willed the drumbeat to slow, but it was like trying to move a mountain with his bare hands. He could feel it, but he could not influence it. Standing, he waved them inside, turning to meet Zelda.

              "May I see the bow?"

              She hesitated, before taking it from her back and holding it out to him. He wondered if she were asking herself the same question he was. Would he even be able to touch the thing? Reaching out with his good hand, he took it. If felt cold and surprisingly light, but it did not burn his fingers as he half expected it would. He felt its magic with curiosity. It was not a pulse, but a constant vibration that unnerved him. His instinct was to drop it and shy away from the potent and mysterious energy imbued in it, but instead he forced himself to be still, to feel it, and, little by little, he let go some of his own magic, letting it be drained by the bow until the gold crescent moon was visibly changed. Obsidian lines veined the limbs, darkening the gold without tarnishing it.

              He offered it to Zelda. "The magic of Hylia," he said, "only has the power to heal. It seals away infection and holds darkness at bay. Malice only corrupts, only destroys. Combined...?" He let the implication hang in the air, holding her gaze. She looked from him to the bow, tracing the marks he had left there.

              "Link," she said at last, giving him the bow. "This is your task."

              The hero took it from her. Now that the time had come, his face was set and determined. He didn't need to be told what to do. Drawing back the golden string, a dazzling arrow of light formed between his two hands, only this time, a strand of dark magic twisted around the head of the arrow like a snake.

              He took a breath, exhaled, fired.

              His aim was true.

             

 


	18. Epilogue

              _One Year Later._

Brilliant spring sunshine flooded his chamber from the long windows to the east, which had been built specifically so that he could admire the sunrise as he worked. The chamber had been fashioned in the style of his homeland, with sandstone pillars and a balcony that overlooked the Hyrule Forest Park, and beyond that the Crenel Hills. Pale silk curtains filtered the light coming in, turning it warm and homely. Now, he stood in front of the looking glass and donned his cloak, regarding his reflection with a critical eye. His hair was still long, but he had been considering cutting it for some time. It was fashionable for Gerudo women to wear their hair in long ponytails or braids, but his hair was not thick enough, his face too angular and lean for it to look anything other than roguish and mean. On a whim, he fetched a knife from a cabinet and lifted it to the back of his neck, sheering off the loose strands that annoyed him, leaving the hair on top of his head thick and full.

              There was a knock on his door.

              "Enter," he said, without looking away from the mirror.

              "Sav'otta Ganondorf, zuul'anth jihalot kiy'd?" _How are you?_

              "Sav'otta. But it's pronounced _kayd._ One syllable, not two."

              He saw Zelda frown from the corner of his eye. "My tutor-"

              "Your tutor died more than a hundred years ago. And you have been out of practise." He turned to her, smiling to show that he meant no offense. "You're getting better."

              It had been a long time before Zelda had been able to talk to him so candidly. He had not forced his company on her, only speaking directly to her when strictly necessary. Being around her made him just as uneasy, so it was no inconvenience for him to avoid her. Something changed some months ago when she stumbled upon him reading in the early morning by candlelight. He had been in the library, where he sometimes went even before the scribes were up and working. She had paused in the doorway, her face pale and drawn. Perhaps she had decided that it was her library after all. Perhaps she had gotten sick of turning on her heel to walk the other way when they passed in the corridors. Whatever the reason, she descended the stairs into the vaulted chamber, determined not to ignore him. The library was not the sparse collection it used to be. Books had been copied and reclaimed, new volumes added and the shelves fully restored. It would have been easy for her to select some alcove to hide in where she would be out of his sight, but, to his great surprise, she sat opposite him, crossing her legs and settling into one of the elegant sofas that had replaced the long tables and benches. Sharing a neutral space like this must have seemed a safe place to start. After a few mornings like this, he asked for her thoughts on this or that subject - he couldn't remember - and then they were talking. It was polite, halting at first, but eventually she began to relax, and that allowed him to be more himself.

              Their friendship was not close - he could never be as confident with her as he was with Riju, or Anya - but it was becoming comfortable.

              "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he said, turning back to the mirror.

              "I was wondering..." She stopped, and her eyes widened. "Ganondorf, what are you doing?" She was staring at the strands of scarlet hair he had discarded on the dressing table, to be swept away.

              "I'm cutting my hair."

              "Yes but... I can send for a barber! You don't need to do it like that - with a knife!"

              He paused, tilting his head at himself in the mirror. He had genuinely not considered sending for a barber. He dismissed the idea. "No need. I have started, I might as well finish."

              She continued to stare at him open mouthed. Finally, she forced herself to get over her shock and said; "I was wondering if you had heard anything from... from Sun."

              He inhaled deeply, putting down the knife and running his fingers through his hair, the mechanical ones on his right hand snagging his scalp. "No."

              "Link received an invitation to her wedding in Tarrey Town. I guess I was curious to see if you had received such an invitation."

              "No."

              An awkward silence fell between them. Zelda had not ever asked him about what had happened between them. Sun was more Link's friend than hers and she had seemed to know without being told that he didn't like talking about things that had come and gone long ago.

              He cleared his throat. "Tarrey Town is a nice place to live. I am sure she will be happy."

              "Indeed."

              Another pause.

              "I take it that means our hero will be absent from the castle for some time."

              "Yes. I was also going to ask you if you could take over some of his duties with the guards and such, only temporarily until he returns. He'll be making the most of his outing. I think he'll be taking a detour, to Satori Mountain."

             

              xxx

 

              Link slowed his horse to a steady walk. The slope up to the grove was steep, and it had already been a long day’s ride. The sun was setting, casting magnificent rays of deep purple and vibrant orange. He crested the top of the hill and felt his heart sink a little. He had expected the grove to be a little withered after so long without its guardian, but it was nothing like the place he had been before. There were no fireflies, none of the blue rabbit-like sprites that had been known to haunt the area. The flowers around the pool were dry and colourless, and the sheltering tree that used to be heavy with cherry blossom was black and bare.

              He reminded himself of the battlefields he had traversed, all the places that had once been scarred by death, now rich and green and thriving. The Plateau was now a healthy logging and farming community, an ideal country of rolling hills and holiday cabins. Nature, beauty, light, it always had a way of coming back.

              He dismounted and took the mask of the Lord of the Mountain from his saddle pack, cradling it in his arms as if it were a sick animal. He didn't know what to expect, didn't even know if anything would happen, but he had faith. When he had sought out Paya, she had looked at the mask with deep sadness but told him that wounds _want_ to heal. He knelt beside the pool, laying the mask on his lap and cleared his mind.

              For a long time, nothing happened, but he remained still, prepared to wait. The sun sank beneath the horizon, leaving an ethereal glow to linger over the distant mountains. He breathed in the sweet twilight air, and though he could smell ash, he could also smell a sweeter, more delicate scent. He opened his eyes.

              White flowers had bloomed around him. He felt warm and at peace, welcome here. There was movement on the other side of the pond and his heart leapt to see two of the glowing forest sprites playing together, chasing each other around the silent princesses. The whole grove was lit by a magical glow that reflected off the water, dancing off the ripples caused by the tread of some great creature.

              Link looked up. Hardly daring to breathe, he beheld the incomplete spirit in front of him. Slowly, he held up the mask, offering it to its true owner. The spirit bent its long and beautiful neck, bowing in front of him to receive it.

              Cherry blossom fluttered on the breeze.

 

              xxx

 

              There was an organ in the chapel.

              It was February, and he had come here in the very early hours before dawn to place a lantern under the statue of Din that resided in one corner of the chapel. The building had been constructed in the shape of an equilateral triangle, with the three golden goddesses in each corner and Hylia placed in the centre. He had chosen to come here so early specifically so that he would not be noticed. He had not Zelda's devotion or Link's awe of the goddesses, but rather a grudging cynicism regarding religious matters. He observed the proper ceremonies that were expected of a man of his status, and made room for the believes and traditions of others, well aware that he was a foreigner in this land and that it would do well not to disrupt or offend. The lantern had not been for him.

              _The Gerudo light fires so that Din can find their loved ones and guide them to a land of clear water and palm trees._

He had been about to leave when he spotted the organ and paused. He drifted over to it, surprising himself with his own curiosity. Looking behind him, making sure that no one was around to see, he touched the slender keys, yellowing with age. It couldn't possibly be tuned, and he wasn't brave enough to disturb the silence to find out. He sat on the stool, finding the pedals with his feet and feeling strangely sad. No, he wasn't sad, for the organ didn't represent anything like loss to him, and the feeling was warm, bittersweet. With a jolt, he realised he was experiencing _nostalgia_ for something he couldn't quite remember. Frowning, he lingered there, turning the feeling over in his mind, trying to understand.

              "Do you play?"

              He started, freezing with his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Turning, he saw Zelda standing a little distance behind him, back to back with the statue of Hylia. He must have spent longer than he realised here. "No," he croaked, clearing his throat. Then, almost without meaning to, he continued; "but I feel like I should be able to."

              "Yes, sometimes I feel like that..." she replied and relief tempered his confusion.

              A thought occurred to him. A question played on his lips, one that he had been nurturing for many months now but had not had to courage to voice. Wouldn't now be the perfect time? They were alone, and as far as he could tell, she was experiencing the same strange pre-occupation with the past. But he couldn't just come out and say it, so he approached it in a roundabout way.

              "Hylians have beliefs about their music, don't they? That there is magic in it for those who know how to call on it."

              "Yes," she said again. She had been looking in his direction, her eyes drifting, following the pipes of the organ as they climbed the wall to a high ceiling lost in shadow, but at his words, she focused on him, a crease forming between her brows.

              "There is a song I wish to know."

              She took a breath. He was sure she would refuse, but after a while, she said; "I knew you would ask me this eventually. I did not expect it to be so soon."

              He waited, trying to remain composed.

              "Do you think you could use that magic? It is ancient, and very... personal. It's the kind of magic that is affected by what is in your heart. If you intend to use it to harm, or to gain something at the cost of another, or for any dark desires, then may have far reaching consequences that don't stop at you."

              "This is not for me," he said.

              "Are you _sure?"_ she asked, and her eyes bored into his. He did not look away.

              "I am."

              "What do you expect to gain?"

              "Nothing."

              She searched his face, trying to find some lie there, some inconsistency, but he meant what he said. He had read the histories, had contemplated the implications of what he was about to ask for and had come to the conclusion that nothing would change, not in this world, and not for him. When she didn't say anything, he said; "What could I gain, Zelda? Power that I already have?"

              She sighed. "You would be the first in countless generations, do you know that?"

              "I do."

              "No one alive has ever used this power."

              "I know."

              After another pause, he tried one more time to persuade her. "I will not take it from you. I will not seek this thing without your permission. I know what happens when someone unworthy takes what does not belong to him. I can only do it with your blessing."

              "And Link?"

              "We have already spoken."

              "And he approved?"

              "He said that long ago you taught him the song, and that it would be right that I should learn it from you."

              She considered this. Then, seeming to make a decision, she climbed up to the alter in front of the organ and reached inside it for a small box with a silver catch. She opened it, withdrawing from it a blue ocarina.

              "Is that-?"

              "No," she allowed herself to smile. "It's a replica. I keep it here for ceremonial reasons. I will show you where the real one is when the time comes."

              He watched her as she raised it to her lips, breathing out a single high note like birdsong. Then she played a simple, minor melody. Despite its simplicity, there was gravity in the notes, sometime timeless and significant. She paused, and played it a second time, and he watched her fingers, hoping to memorise the placement of the tones.

              She walked around the alter to stand in front of him, holding the ocarina in front of her with both hands.

              "If I ask you what you will wish for, will you tell me?"

              He considered her. The truth was he might not even go through with it. He had pictured the scenario where he stood before the door and did not have the nerve to play the notes. What if his wish was selfish? What if, despite all the best intentions, there was still some speck of darkness inside him that offended the Goddess and it only brought more suffering. It had been so long now, long enough for wounds to heal and the world to turn. Nothing could change _his_ past. But what if he could make it different for someone _else_.

              "Long ago," he began, finding that the words came easier than he expected. "There is a boy who is so deeply afraid of his own potential for evil that he cast aside every chance for happiness in some twisted pre-emptive strike. He believes that he is justified, that his love will turn on him in time, like everyone else has. He might be right about that, but he is wrong to think it is his decision to make. I would have it that this decision was taken out of his hands."

              She looked at him, and he saw her eyes soften.

 

              _THE END._

 

 

 


End file.
